


A Touch of History

by funfan



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Developing Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:58:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 113,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funfan/pseuds/funfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tiring season, Mario and Marco decide to go on a holiday together. But, they don't even suspect how far they will travel when they end up in a medieval fantasy world, where they know almost everyone, but no-one seems to know the real them. To the people of this strange land, they are Mario, the stableboy and Prince Marco. Can they get out of this alternate world or are they stuck forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist the temptation, I simply had to start writing this. I want to warn everyone, that this will be very much like a fantasy novel (which I adore), a rough world so the story might not be for everyone. There won't be any major violence though and definitely no bloodshed. The story was inspired by the guys' love of Game of Thrones. Mario even said in an interview that he would like to play in it, so I gave him the chance. :-D I hope you will enjoy it, let me know what you think of it. Your feedback is precious and appreciated and definitely motivates me to update faster. :-)

Marco could almost hear his feet and legs sigh in relief as he stretched them on the back deck of their rented yacht. The season couldn’t have been more tiring for him, with his club fighting for staying up in the Bundesliga in the first half of it, and fighting for European qualification in the other one. Add to that his being out of action because of injuries for months and his affair with the state prosecution over his driving habits and you had all that you needed for a year that could definitely be counted as the shittiest of his life so far and he hoped with his entire heart that nothing would beat it. He couldn’t imagine anything that could, actually, but life was a great master of giving such surprises.

He really didn’t know what he would have done without his friends’ support. Marcel, who had been always by his side through his personal troubles and Mario who had helped him through the worst professional season he had ever had. The chubby faced brunette, who had talked to him every day during the world cup, the man who had held up his jersey at the biggest moment of his life, the friend who had been the first one to console him after every defeat Dortmund had suffered. Their friendship had always been special for Marco and the last year had proved to him that Mario was someone special whom he would never lose. And when Mario called him after the German Cup final, he didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Ten days and two friends in the middle of nowhere on a yacht with everything they would need during their solitude they had chosen for themselves. And Mario had taken things seriously. He had examined Marco’s luggage, looking for any ‘prohibited’ devices, including the blonde’s oh so dear mobile phone that was now lying turned off in some drawer on the ship. At least, Marco hoped that Mario hadn’t thrown it into the Caribbean Sea.

The brunette had prepared everything with thorough care: he had chosen the perfect yacht for them, filled up its pantry (mainly with alcohol) and had set a journey plan that allowed them a lot of relaxation without drifting into the lazy life of two careless young men. They had already seen some stuff Marco had found interesting. He had always loved to learn about the history and culture of other nations and the Caribbean was the perfect place for that with tribes with strange superstitions and traditions maybe ridiculous to the civilized eye. Marco still smiled at the memory of the fortune-teller ‘witch’ they had seen earlier today before they had started off towards the next island or whatever Mario had in his mind.

“What about another cocktail?” Mario brought him back to the reality, reaching for Marco’s empty glass.

“You don’t even have to ask.” The blonde smiled as he handed it to the brunette. “But, I’m starting to feel a bit bad about this whole holiday.” He sat up and turned to Mario rummaging behind the small bar on the deck.

“How come?” Mario concentrated hard on getting the amounts right.

“I mean, you planned everything and do everything for me, and all I do is lie around and enjoy being served. I really feel I should thank you somehow.”

“Oh, Marco, you’re always so nice!” Mario chuckled. “We’ve had a stressful season, we deserve this and you especially. I’m sure you would do the same for me– Oops, this one has gotten a bit stronger than intended.” He snickered. Marco looked at his red face amused and he remembered that Mario’s love for good cocktails unfortunately wasn’t equaled by his tolerance to alcohol.

“Never mind.” The blonde said as he walked to the bar and took the glass with the more rum. “This one is for us!” He raised his glass and Mario followed his example.

“Sure it is!” He cheered.

 

* * *

 

A few more Cuba Libres and the sun shining straight onto them had loosened up Mario’s tongue and Marco started to wonder if a vacation with the brunette really was what he had wished for. For the first five minutes, he had found his friend’s drunk jabber amusing, but it turned into annoyance very quickly and right now his head was already splitting. Only god knew how he would feel like by the time Mario finally finished.

But, the brunette didn’t seem to get enough of speaking. He had spoken without a break for the past half an hour, retelling the season and how he had seen Dortmund’s struggles and he had barely reached the start of September. This was going to be a very long evening, Marco sighed. He volunteered to prepare their next drinks, to get a break from the brunette, but Mario had decided to ‘help him out’ which was more about ensuring that the blonde didn’t spare the alcohol from their drinks.

It was the worst cycle possible: Mario talked, Marco gave him a drink to make him stop, the rum only made Mario more talkative and ultimately, Marco more annoyed. Luckily, though it also made him drowsy and he actually drifted into a sweet slumber, Mario’s monotonic monologue providing the best possible background music. His sleep was shallow though and he could still register half of what Mario was saying and that’s why his eyes snapped open when he heard Mario uttering the least probable sentences of all.

“And when you signed that contract extension, you were like the little prince of Dortmund.” Mario said with a broad grin, his face now burning from the alcohol in his organism.

“Excuse me?” Marco asked back, not believing his ears.

“Yes, yes.” Mario nodded vehemently. “Like the regent reigning over the entire club, the symbol and guarantee of a bright and promising future.”

“And do you want to know how I saw you?” Marco retorted jokingly, pinching Mario’s side, causing the brunette to cry out in the sudden pain. “Like a horse put in a harness, pulling the wagon of Bayern. But, you were a small horse among all the big ones but that didn’t mean that the carters expected less from you.” Okay, this was totally the alcohol speaking from him.

“Horse? Harness? Carter?” Mario repeated the words. “First of all, how do you know such words? And secondly, what do you mean by that? Me as a horse without a will? You are insulting me!” He laughed.

“Well, I read a lot about history and I was going to finish my sentence. So yeah, in the day, you were just another horse in harness. But when the evening came, you ran free and you were almost like a mustang roaming on the wide planes that couldn’t be caught or tamed.”

“Wow, Marco, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Mario said, his jaw dropping, gifting him with an expression of stupid bewilderment and Marco had to try hard not to laugh.

“It’s the sunset bringing it out from me.” He snickered. He flung an arm around Mario’s waist and they stood up. “I think it is time to hit the bed. We’ve had a tiring day and too much to drink.”

“Speak for yourself!” Mario snapped, but he almost tripped on the threshold of his cabin so he thought it wiser to shut up and he slumped down on the bed. Marco made sure that everything was fine before he turned around to leave his best friend behind for the night.

“You know what, Marco?” Mario asked with a philosophic tone to his voice. The blonde turned back towards him, expecting something wise from the young midfielder. He really should have known better. “I would let you ride me anytime.”

“Thanks for putting a fairly sexual picture in my head right before sleep!” Marco joked, trying to cover his embarrassment, because to his own surprise, his manhood stood up curiously when he heard Mario’s words. He quickly left the cabin, just in time to avoid hearing Mario’s next murmur.

“Good night, my precious prince…”

 

* * *

 

Marco had imagined waking up a lot differently. First of all, he had expected himself to wake up with a throbbing head and extra sensitive ears protesting to any disagreeable sound and with the number of cocktails they had drunk the previous day, every sound would have counted as disagreeable. On the contrary, he couldn’t have asked for a more pleasant waking up. He lied on his back with closed eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and savored the moment. Everything was so peaceful and perfect. The cool wind caressing his face, the smell of soft grass filling his nostrils, the tweet of little songbirds…

He realized freaked out that something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He had been used to the salty taste and smell of the sea and the seabirds’ squawk, but this was totally different. He opened his eyes and he saw blue sky and tops of tall trees above him. He was lying on a clearing in the middle of a forest, that much was obvious, he only had no idea how he had gotten there. He rubbed his eyes, thinking that he was hallucinating, but nothing changed. The trees were still there, the grass still tickled his face and the bird still sang their songs welcoming sunshine.

Marco turned on his side, noticing Mario snoring next to him. The situation called for immediate action and didn’t allow him any tenderness, so he simply elbowed Mario in the flank. The brunette sat up, holding onto his sore side and looking bewildered at his friend.

“Marco, what the hell is wrong with you?” He flinched in pain.

“Marco? Wait, you reacted to me? So this isn’t a dream?” The blonde turned his head around baffled.

“Does this feel like a dream to you?” Mario snapped hurt and punched Marco in the ribs. The ache shot through the winger’s torso and he was bent double with pain.

“Shit.” Marco groaned. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. I was sleeping and you elbowed me. Seriously, why did you do that? And why are you in my cabin?” Mario asked, obviously still half-asleep.

“Your cabin?” Marco jerked his head up. “Could you please look around and tell me when has your cabin turned into a fucking forest?”

“What?” Mario looked at him clueless, but he followed Marco’s orders and sprung back in surprise. “What the– Marco, this is a very stupid joke!”

“Joke? What do you think, how could have I done this?”

“I don’t know… Maybe you put some drugs into our drinks and this is a very unpleasant mutual trip?”

“A trip? Mario, your side and my ribs hurt, this is fucking real!” Marco yelled, despair taking over him. He couldn’t believe his own words and he was expecting to wake up from this nightmare, but his brain had dismissed all his similar hopes. This was absurd, but at the same time, it felt all too real.

“Oh really, and how can you explain it, then? And what’s this masquerade on you?”

It was only then that Marco realized that their surroundings weren’t the only thing not right. He quickly glanced over himself, stunned at the pompous clothes he was wearing. The black cavalier shirt with slashed sleeves felt so unnatural to him and his riding pants were ridiculously tight and he was sure they were stuffed with something in the front. Mario, on the other hand, was dressed more casually and probably more comfortably, by the looks of his broad laced cotton shirts and pants.

Marco opened his mouth, but before any sound could leave it, a few horsemen appeared from the forest, slowly coming their way. Marco could hardly see them because the clearing was pretty big, but as they got closer he realized startled that they were led by none else than Philipp Lahm, wearing equally ridiculous clothing as they, but he obviously wasn’t troubled by it. He stopped his horse in front of them and jumped on the ground, looking as if he was ready to kill one of them. Or both.

“Mario Götze, you are in serious trouble now!” He charged at the brunette and simply slapped him out of nowhere, his hand leaving a red mark on Mario’s chubby face. The brunette looked at him stunned and hurt, but Fips didn’t seem to care. He turned to Marco and the blonde readied himself for the same treatment, but to his surprise, the older man’s features softened as he shot him an almost apologetic glance.

“Your Highness, pray forgive me for letting you ride with my last stable-boy. He had promised me that he would take you only as far as he knew the land, but apparently, he couldn’t keep his promise. I shall see to it that he will be duly punished.”


	2. Prince Not So Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Mario have found themselves in a fantasy world. What will happen next? Will they see any more familiar faces?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer and contains some worldbuilding. I tried to keep it at minimum so you can explore this world slowly, please let me know if it worked. Thank you for the warm welcome for this story, I'm happy you love it and please keep up this wonderful support. :-)

Marco looked bewildered at every men around him, hoping that someone would stop this stupid joke and burst out laughing. But, it wasn’t happening and moreover, he had no explanation how this could be a joke. He turned to Mario who was still nursing his cheek after Philipp’s hard slap, looking as if he could break down in tears any moment. To be honest, Marco shared his feelings. They were in some sort of a strange fantasy world and as far as he knew, there was no way out of it.

“My prince?” Fips asked. “We were talking about Mario’s punishment.” He said carefully, afraid to utter every word and Marco finally realized that he expected the form of punishment from him.

“Um, I think he has suffered enough already.” He stammered, his voice breaking after every word. Apparently, everyone thought him to be a prince and expected leadership from him. Great news!

“You are quite right, Your Highness.” Fips nodded, although he couldn’t hide his surprise at Marco’s reaction and it made the blonde think. What exactly did these people think of him? Was he some kind of a sadist prince like Joffrey in Game of Thrones? He would definitely hate that and Philipp’s reaction wasn’t very encouraging. “But, I suppose some extra work around the stables won’t harm him.” He mused for a moment and then he turned into the authoritative whatever-his-position-was in a split second. “Get the horses, Mario!”

The brunette on Marco’s side turned around slowly, inspecting his surroundings once again and Marco followed his gaze. Only then did he notice the two horses grazing peacefully on the other end of the clearing. Mario stood up slowly, starting off towards the mighty animals. His steps were faltering and it was obvious that he had no idea what he was doing, but he didn’t want to get any further encouragement from Philipp. And as Marco thought about the situation and the pieces fell in their places, he freaked out completely and a feeling of horror crept into his stomach.

“I hope you still have enough strength in you to ride back to the castle, my prince.” Philipp climbed back on his horse.

“Um…” Marco drawled because he wasn’t sure if he had the _skills_ to ride back to the castle.

“Of course, I can send a horseman to Bay Town so they can send a coach for us, but it will take some time.” The short man suggested.

“Yes, that would be perfect!” Marco agreed eagerly. He still felt he needed to give some more explanation. “My saddle isn’t that comfortable.”

“Oh. We shall look onto that, too.” Philipp nodded and waved for a man of his who turned around and rode away in a hurry.

In the meantime, Mario returned with the two horses, keeping them away from himself as much as possible. The stallions must have sensed his fear of them because they tried to pull away constantly.

“Gentle with them, son!” Philipp warned the young brunette. “You don’t want them to break their legs. And if I find the slightest bruise on them, you will get double that!” Mario squeaked at the threat. “Let’s get started. On your horse, Mario!”

“Oh, I think I will wait for the coach with Marco.” The horsewhip swung before he could finish the sentence properly and it hit Mario in his bum. The midfielder cried out in pain and sprung away, trying to get out of the way of further sweeps. Marco watched the scene as if it was a movie, only it was happening right in front of him.

“Are you nuts?” Mario rubbed his sore backside flinching. Fantasy-Philipp either hadn’t understood his comment or hadn’t cared about it, because he ordered his other man to get the horses that had run away again, startled by Mario’s shrill cry.

“Why have you done that, Philipp?” Marco decided to open us his mouth against his better judgement. After all, he was supposed to be a prince here, he could hope that the national team’s former captain wouldn’t hurt him.

“He disrespected you, Your Highness.” He said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, in _this_ world, it might have been. “I’m afraid you will have to endure a short ride still, until we reach the road. It’s not far away, we shall be there soon. If you could get on your horse, my prince? Your father has been anxious about you.”

Marco decided not to ask any questions because the whoosh of the horsewhip lived still vividly in his memories. He started off towards his horse that had been held in place by a much more skilled stable boy than Mario. Marco readied himself for another humiliation. He had never ridden a horse in his life and he was sure that he was going to fall over the back of the horse. He held onto whatever part of the harness that the stable boy had handed him and swung himself. He closed his eyes and prayed that his fall wouldn’t be too big, but to his surprise, he ended up in a sitting position on the hard and truly uncomfortable saddle. He grinned by his success and almost forgot about his surroundings, that’s until Philipp’s voice brought him back to reality. If this world could be called reality.

“Not you, young man!” He snapped at Mario who tried to climb his own stallion. “I’m sure some walking won’t hurt you. Besides, the last man I hit with my horsewhip couldn’t sit for two days and I should be disappointed with myself if it wasn’t the case with you.” He grinned smugly and he led their way out of the forest.

Mario hung his head low, apparently accepting his defeat and that whatever he did, it couldn’t please his team captain. He glanced at Marco for a split second, expecting some support, but he quickly averted his gaze, preventing further scolding or punishment. He grabbed his horse’s lead and followed Fips towards the trees.

They rode and walked in silence. Mario cursed under his breath as he stumbled in the trees’ roots and Marco was so focused on staying up on the horse that he feared that if he started to speak, he was going to lose his balance. Whatever magic had brought them here, it seemed to have equipped them with some new skills, because after a few minutes, riding a horse felt as natural to him as playing football and he started to regret that he had asked for a coach. Sure, he had to duck his head constantly, to avoid hitting branches (Philipp was more fortunate with his height), but he was looking forward to being out of the woods, on the road.

They indeed reached it after around fifteen minutes and their procession came to a halt. The road leading to Bay Town, as Philipp had called it, was at least ten meters wide. Marco gathered that it was designed to accommodate two lanes of coaches. Or a marching army, but he tried to banish that thought. He wanted to believe that whatever kingdom this was, it was one of piece and love.

“We shall wait here.” Their ‘savior’ stated and he leaned back in his saddle if that was even possible. “Mario, I think you should get going. We shall catch up to you. I’m sure Felix will gladly lead your horse home.”

Marco spun around at hearing the name and indeed, it was Mario’s little brother sitting in the saddle behind him. He hadn’t even recognized him earlier. Mario must have, because he handed Felix the lead of his horse with a cutting glance. Felix was lucky that Mario hadn’t turned out to be a wizard in this world, because otherwise he would have already fallen to the ground– dead. Mario cast Marco a final look, too, not a bit friendlier as if it was the blonde’s fault that they were here and then he started off in the direction Philipp showed him.

“I think you are being harsh on him.” Marco noted, when Mario was out of earshot. His remark was greeted with a snort from Felix and no reaction from the older man.

“As if you haven’t punished him much worse when he left your personal service for the stables.” Felix snarled.

“What?” Marco snapped and he turned to the young boy so quickly that for a moment it wasn’t sure if he was going to stay on the horse or not.

“Felix!” Philipp joined the reprimanding looks.

“Excuse me, Your _Highness_.” Felix quickly said. Sarcasm wasn’t unknown to this world; that was good to know.

After one hour of awkward silence and waiting, one of the royal coaches finally appeared on the horizon. All the horses were covered with black caparisons with hundreds of small yellow crowns on them. The huge coach wore the same colors and Marco didn’t have to think about why it was so. This world wore more resemblance to their reality than it had seemed at first. Only, he wasn’t a prince on Earth. But, seeing the pompous coach, he thought he could get used to this life. The coach turned around and came to a halt in front of them. The door was opened and a very familiar man got out of it.

“Your Highness! I’m so glad to see you safe and sound!” Marcel – at least Marco guessed he was called like that in this world, too – allowed himself this exclamation of joy, much to Philipp’s dislike.

“If you are done with that, Fornell, maybe we could hit the road. I wouldn’t like to miss my lunch because of you.” The oldest man growled and signaled everyone to start off.

Marco quickly jumped down from his horse and got into the coach. His backside was sore from only this short ride and he decided that his asking for a coach hadn’t been that bad in the end. Just as he slumped down on the cushioned seats, the coach started off.

The marble road shook the soul out of him while they got closer to Bay Town. Marcel talked through the entire journey but Marco didn’t listen to him. He stared out the window which was only a hole left in the coach’s side. The woods got rarer and the landscape flatter as they approached their destination. The walls of Bay Town became visible after an hour.

The capital was exactly what its name said: a town built around a bay. The king’s castle loomed over the small houses and it resembled the Signal Iduna Park very much, at least in Marco’s opinion. It was a completely rectangular building with round towers in each corner and a wall not much taller than the blonde’s home stadium. Really, it looked more like a nobleman’s weekend mansion than a ruler’s court and it strengthened Marco’s hope in a peace-loving folk. _His_ folk.

As they passed the city walls, small children gathered around them and followed their procession. Some even ran to the coach, trying to peek inside and get a glimpse of the passenger of high standing. Further in the heart of the town, the houses got bigger; in the shadow of the castle, the villas of noblemen stood. They came to a halt on a small square. By that time, a smaller crowd followed them.

“We are home.” Marcel said smiling and he opened the door of the coach. Two other servants ran to them, carrying a set of stairs. His real-life friend encouraged Marco to step outside and just when he did, the coach started off, leaving him on this impromptu platform.

Marco turned around, ready to face his people, but he wasn’t ready for what he saw. Most of the men were wearing simple clothes and the children were barefoot. They bowed as they recognized him, but they couldn’t hide the disappointment from their faces. Marco couldn’t help but wonder what had caused such a reaction.

“This way, my prince.” Philipp tugged at his sleeves and the blonde followed him gladly. From this short distance, the castle looked very intimidating with its few windows and simple stone walls. It looked like the fortress Marco would have liked to live through a siege in.

There was only one entrance to the castle and it led through a narrow drawbridge. This one though didn’t reach over a moat filled with water. Instead, it was full of sharp spikes. It did the business, too, Marco gathered.

The courtyard wasn’t big at all at the expense of thick castle walls. On every tower and on the walls, black and yellow banners tried to resist the wind. A seneschal, dressed in the same colors, stepped to them. Another familiar face.

“Pleased to have you back, Your Highness. I will accompany you to your quarters. Your father will see you after you take a bath.” Kehli said dutifully and started off towards a dark doorway. Marco wondered for a moment when would the time come when he wouldn’t have to follow anyone. But, maybe he didn’t even want to wait that long. He wanted to be out of this place as soon as possible.

Marco’s quarters, as Kehli had called them, overlooked the bay and were protected by his teammate Kevin. The blonde wished it was someone else from the team, because Kevin really was the last person he would have trusted with his life. He had three rooms just for himself: a place where he could welcome his guests, a private room with an extra-king-sized bed and a much smaller chamber with a bathtub and what only barely resembled a toilet bowl. Kehli didn’t stay for long, he left because of more important issues and Marco could finally relax.

But not for long. At first, he started to worry about Mario. He was sure that the short brunette hadn’t had such a warm welcome. He needed to inquire about him as soon as he had the possibility. And just as he decided that, the door to his quarters was opened and Kevin stepped in, announcing a visitor.

“His Highness, Prince Mats.” Before he finished the sentence, _that_ Mats marched into the room and embraced Marco.

“Brother!” He cried out and Marco quickly slid out from his arms.

“Brother? No way!” He protested, keeping away from Mats. This nightmare was getting worse and worse. “I mean, we don’t even look the same.”

“Congratulations, Marco, you just realized what the whole kingdom and our neighbors have been talking about for the past twenty years. And before you would strain your brain, I’m six months older than you, that doesn’t help to stop the rumors, either.”

“Wait, you mean that–”

“I’m a bastard? Yes.” He said with surprising calmness. “But you should know it already. I guess our little stable boy has had a much bigger effect on you than I feared. But seriously, running away Marco? Our father won’t let you get away with it this time.”

“This time?” Marco asked back. It felt as if everyone around him was speaking in riddles and his head started to ache.

“Look, little one, I’m not blaming you, okay? Let’s admit it, Mario is a very handsome young man. But, if you don’t want his pretty head to end up detached from his body, you really should keep your romance down. I might be the older one, but you are the heir and you are not supposed to share your bed with another man and especially not with a stable boy.” Marco’s jaw dropped. So apparently, in this world, Mario was his lover, or at least Mats thought so. Great perspectives. “You did not see father’s face this time. He was furious and it was an improvement that he let some men search for you.” …and his father – whoever he was – hated him.

“Mats what is going on? This might sound strange to you, but I don’t think I belong here. I need to go back to our yacht, relax a bit and get ready for the next season. And you need to get your shit together, because we need a strong captain if we want to climb back to the top…” He muttered and then he broke down in tears.

“What are you talking about, Marco? What is a _yacht_? And why should we get ready for the next season? Summer has just started.” He asked, but Marco could only sob in his comfortable chair. Mats finally gave up the waiting with a sigh. “Look, I’d be glad to stay and heal your wounds your impossible love life caused you, but Lord Höwedes is coming to an audience and I wouldn’t miss the chance to see his son. _I_ am allowed to do that. Take care, see you in the throne room.”

He spun around and left, but Marco couldn’t care about it. He hid his face in his hands and cried uncontrollably. There was no way out of this world and he had to learn to be a prince of a kingdom he had never seen. Marcel found him in this state, accompanied by a few female servants who carried huge bowls of hot water. Marcel told them to put them down in the bathroom and then quickly leave.

“Your Highness, the bath is ready. I’m sorry it took me so long, but your return has caused some stir in the court.” And then Marco remembered the disappointed and terrified faces in front of the castle. He looked up from behind his fingers and saw the same hints of fear in his best friend’s eyes.

“Who am I, Marcel? What do the people think of me?” He cried out, longing for some answers.

“Is this some kind of a trick?” Marcel asked with a feigned smile. “Of course, they love you.”

“No, I want to know the truth. I need to know it. Don’t hold anything back. It is my order.”

Marcel measured him for a few moments and just when he opened his mouth, ready to talk, a guard who looked like Toni entered the room. “His Majesty will see you now, my prince.”


	3. The Stableboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with a new chapter. I've been in some sort of a writing slump lately, so hopefully this turned out to be okay, please share your opinion with me. Every comment boosts my motivation. :-) I'm grateful for the kudos and comments you've given me, they mean a lot to me, please keep up your support if you like this work.

“Of course he becomes the prince and I get to scrub horseshit all day long!” Mario groused after he tripped over the third root. He had started walking on the marble road but he had soon found out that his shoes hadn’t been invented for such a surface. The ground wasn’t much comfortable either, but at least it was bearable. His feet were oversensitive because he was used to much better footwear.

The little caravan accompanying Marco to the capital passed him not far from the city walls. Bay Town had everything Mario had hated about Dortmund. First of all, it was small. Not so small that one would know everyone, but still small enough to have a very good idea about what’s going on within the city walls. He longed for the big city, where something happens all the time, where there’s life wherever you look, where people don’t stare at you just because you are a celebrity. Well, thinking of it– he gathered he wouldn’t be counted as a celebrity _here_. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t think it likely that stable boys were looked upon as an example to follow.

“Halt!” A gateman yelled at him firmly. Mario would have walked past him; he wasn’t used to being stopped at the borders of a city. “Who are you and where are you going?”

“Mario Götze and I’d be glad to know where I am supposed to go.” Mario mumbled, not really bothered by the halberd stuck out towards him.

“I don’t like your face, boy!” The guard said to him. “Why don’t you turn around quickly before I run out of patience?”

Mario looked at the gateman startled and he realized that he was speaking of sheer determination and if he wasn’t careful, he could end up dead very easily. He was about to mumble something about Marco, Philipp and his job in the stable when they were interrupted by a joyful voice.

“Mario!” Felix’ call rang through the air and echoed under the gate. The guard turned around frowning, inspecting the newcomer. “Hurry, Fips is missing you, he said he had some special treatment ready.” His brother tried hard, but he couldn’t hide the concern from his voice completely and it made Mario afraid, as well. He made a few faltering steps around the guard who finally came back to his senses and quickly stopped him by placing his rather paw-like hand on Mario’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m not done with you!”

“Sorry, but he is needed in the _royal_ stables.” Felix came to his brother’s rescue, emphasizing the key word that would luckily arouse the guard’s interest. “And if you let him go, maybe he will put in a few words so no one would come and check if it is really water in your flask.”

The gateman looked puzzled for a moment and then he seemed to come to a decision. He eased his grasp on Mario’s shoulder what the footballer welcomed. “You are good boys, aren’t you?” He patted his back before nodding towards the gate.

Mario wasn’t going to try his luck. He ran to Felix, glad that he evaded being murdered a few hours after finding himself in this strange world. But then, maybe if he got killed here, he would only wake up on his yacht on Earth again. Anyway, it wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. And really, he shouldn’t take any risks if he wanted to keep his head on the top of his neck.

Their road led through what Mario could describe only as a ghetto. He had a very strong suspicion that Marco’s coach went on a different route to the castle. Felix kept his eyes glued to the ground in front of him the whole time and Mario could understand him. All the people he saw looked like the ones he didn’t want to meet in the middle of the night in a dark alley.

“I’m glad you decided to turn up, Mario.” Philipp greeted them with a vicious smile in front of the stables. It was a very ordinary building but the scent around it gave it away to Mario. There was no way he could work in such an environment, he thought.

“Not that it is my fault that I’m late. I wasn’t the one who made me walk all the way…” Mario mumbled but realized immediately that it wasn’t a wise decision. His bottom still hurt from Philipp’s treatment and there had to be a red mark on his left cheek where his team captain had hit him. And now, Mario expected his other cheek to get a symmetric mark.

“Good that I’ve already found the right way to shut your mouth and make you think about what you say next time.” He said with a wide grin that didn’t foretell anything pleasant. “Seriously, Mario. If it wasn’t for your father’s and King Pep’s wish, you wouldn’t be here. If you ask me, you aren’t good for anything else than what you did in the castle.”

Mario froze in his place. He didn’t really care about what he had done in the castle, although the disgust in Fips’ voice told him that it couldn’t have been very nice. But, the shorter man had mentioned King Pep – and it was the combination of these two words that frightened him. He could have gladly taken anyone as the ruler of this kingdom, mostly because he wasn’t planning to spend his summer vacation here. But Pep? He had enough of him in the real life, why did it have to be him? And, if Pep was the king, that must have meant that Marco was his… son?

“Are you listening to me?” Fips growled viciously. He must have given out his instructions while Mario was drawing his own conclusions. Mario really needed to learn how to pay attention. All the more so, because Philipp was already reaching for a cane.

“Um.” Mario drawled, looking for some help from Felix, but his brother pretended to be occupied with picking something out from his shoe.

“Philipp!” A firm voice called through the courtyard of the stable. Mario spun around to look at the man who might be his savior from a pedagogic beating. He was the most marvelous sight Mario could ever imagine and he looked very much like Robert. No, it was Robert, only in a clothing Mario had never seen on him. He sat on a high horse – literally – with such a straight back that anyone could envy him. It was obvious from his stature that he had a very important position in the court and Mario wouldn’t be surprised if it really was so. Something about Robert’s look would have made Mario march into battle any day. His heart beat heavier as he watched his improbable ally; Robert was the only one who stood up for him at Bayern and it seemed that in this world, too.

“You leave the boy. Our king wants to see him.” Okay, Mario wasn’t sure anymore if he should have been grateful to Robert or not.

“Make sure that he’ll be back as soon as His Majesty finishes with him. Mario has a lot to do around here.” Philipp gave in, but his features hadn’t softened at all. Mario walked over to Robert before his boss could change his mind. Robert didn’t even look at him, he just turned his horse around and started off towards the castle.

They got there after ten minutes of silent strolling. It seemed that there was a smaller stable right next to the castle, with rested horses for orderlies. Not that Robert was one of them. He must have been sent by the king himself and Mario knew what that meant: it was about some extraordinary business not anyone could be trusted with. It flattered and frightened him at the same time that he had to do something with it.

He wasn’t led to the throne room. Instead, Robert opened the door for him into a chamber and he stepped inside. And there he stood; there was nothing king-like about him. His clothing was simple, but as he turned to Mario, he understood why he was the ruler of his land. His eyes were full of love and concern for his people and they dispelled all of Mario’s worries.

“Kloppo?” Mario asked stammering.

“Pardon me?” The older man asked back and Mario could be grateful that he didn’t understand him. He was sure that ‘Kloppo’ wasn’t the right way to address a king.

“Your Grace wanted to see me?” He remembered how everyone called the ruler in Game of Thrones. Who said TV never thought anyone anything?

“What are you doing here, Mario?” Klopp asked calmly.

“Well, I was told that Your Grace–”

“I meant what are you doing in Bay Town?” Came the question, this time with more venom in Klopp’s voice. “You asked me for one last opportunity to be with Marco. I gave it to you. You promised me that you would leave afterwards. Now tell me, why are you here?”

Mario almost forgot to breathe. What was Klopp talking about? What one last opportunity? And why did he have to leave after that? There was no way he could come out of this situation in a good way. He had to think of something and do it quickly. He had no idea what was expected from him or what his past in this world was. So he went with what he was sure of.

“We fell asleep and when we woke up, Philipp found us and there was no way I could disappear.” He stammered, hoping that his deep fear wasn’t audible in his voice.

“Hm, that’s interesting,” Klopp mused. “because when I sent Fips after you, I gave him a very straightforward order: he had to kill you in case he found you, too.” He said it with such calmness and impassiveness that Mario nearly shit himself. The world started to spin around him and he had to hold onto something to keep his footing. Klopp wanted him dead? Okay, he hadn’t been thrilled when he had told him that he was leaving Dortmund for Bayern, but this was pushing it– except, this wasn’t the same Klopp and that was exactly what scared him. With the good old Klopp, he would have an easy time. Just a guilty look and a promise, and he could go. It wasn’t going to be that simple with King Jürgen, though.

“W–wait.” He croaked out. “I–I mean, there must be another way.”

“Is there? Tell me about it, then.” Klopp snorted. “You know, Mario, maybe Pep was right: we should have gotten rid of you right at the start. You wouldn’t have caused so much trouble.”

“I can solve it.” Mario promised. “Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it. Do you want me gone? Great, just let me go and I’ll leave.”

“Do you think my son is an idiot?” Klopp snarled and he charged at Mario, pushing him against the cold and very hard wall. “He’s not the brightest mind, but even he would know that I had something to do with it.”

“I don’t think he would mind.” Mario managed to mumble and Klopp finally let go of him. Seriously, the man had more strength than Mario had expected.

“What? Has something happened?”

“I think Marco– Prince Marco can change, Your Grace.” Mario showed his king the most sheepish look he had. This was his last chance to live.

“Why would I trust you, boy?”

“Please, just give me a few days and I can make him change his mind.” He whined on the verge of crying.

“The engagement is due in five days.” Klopp said, more to himself than to Mario. “You get two days. No more. And you can’t leave the city. If you fail, I’m sure we can find a place for you in the prison.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I won’t fail!” Mario let out a relieved sigh and quickly walked to the door. Just when he was about to open it, it flung open, hitting him in the face as Robert stormed into the chamber.

“Your Grace, Lord Höwedes is here.” He nodded, not even looking at Mario holding his nose and flinching in pain.

“Perfect. We need a lot to discuss. See to it that this boy gets back to the stable, Robert. And tell the guard not to let him leave the city.”

A bleeding nose was most certainly not considered a medical emergency here because Robert grabbed Mario by his neck and nudged him out of the chamber, through many corridors and finally, out of the castle. This time, they were in a hurry and before he knew it, the familiar odor hit Mario through his nose throbbing in pain. Robert held no words of goodbye for him, he left him there and turned around to get back to the castle as soon as possible. Mario noticed happily that Philipp was nowhere to be seen and he started off towards the sound of Felix’ whistle. His brother was in the middle of feeding the horses, but he stopped immediately when he saw Mario.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, rushing concerned to his brother.

“No, this was an accident. But, I’m afraid I’ll be in deep shit soon.” Mario sighed.

“Nah, I don’t think Fips will make you clean the latrine. He cares about you, even if he doesn’t show it.” Felix shrugged and Mario looked at him bewildered before he finally understood the reason behind the misunderstanding. And then, even if it wasn’t the right time to do so, he burst out laughing. Somehow, Felix’ presence calmed him and had a feeling of home and for the first time, Mario could laugh about his impossible situation.

“Thanks, that was very reassuring.” He said once he caught his breath again. Felix still looked very worried about him, and suddenly, an idea hit Mario. He really needed someone to help him and who else would do it if not his brother? After all, brotherly love was very special and it had to be special even in this world. “Felix, do you believe in magic?”

“Magic? What kind of magic?” He became an excited child in a split second.

“The one that makes you disappear in your own world and end up in a completely different one?”

“Did this really happen to you?” Felix asked with a dropped jaw. “Wow! Where have you been? Is this why you didn’t come back yesterday evening? Tell me about it!”

“It’s not exactly the way you think it is.” Mario drawled. “I’m not the Mario you think I am. I am the Mario Götze of a different world and I’m a world-famous footballer there.”

“What’s a _footballer_?” Felix asked, the slightest hint of doubt in his voice.

“That’s not important. Please, don’t call me crazy, but I honestly have no idea about anything in this world. I don’t know who I am or what’s happened to me. And Kloppo, I mean the king told me some scary stuff. And it concerns Marco, too. He isn’t your beloved prince, either. Felix, please, you’ve got to help me.” His voice broke and tears welled up in his eyes.

“Wow, did it really happen? You are from another world?” Felix gaped.

“You don’t have to believe me, just answer my questions, okay?” Mario looked at him hopefully and Felix finally nodded. “Okay, so what’s going on between me and Marco?”

“Well, how should I say it? You are kind of like Prince Marco’s male courtesan. It’s a big deal because he is the heir and he is supposed to marry King Pep’s daughter. And currently, you are the only thing that stands in the way.”


	4. A Secret Plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I must start with warning you that this hasn't been proofread yet. School has been very demanding lately and I couldn't focus on writing, but I still wanted to keep my WIPs going. Hopefully, there won't be any horrible typos, I will check them as soon as possible.  
> Thank you for wonderful support of my works and especially this one, it is really close to my heart. :-) Please keep it up and let me know what you think of it and this part of backstory. :-)

Many considered the council room the High Castle’s most impressive sight. Legend had it that it had been carved out from one massive piece of rock. Klopp didn’t know if it was true, he had always found the room too dark and cold – and the furniture couldn’t change his mind, either. Twelve stone chairs. That was all the council room held, all seemed to grow out of the marble floor. One for the king and eleven for the heads of each lordship of the kingdom. Although, thinking about it, Klopp couldn’t remember a time when all twelve chairs had been taken. Maybe right after his coronation, when all the high lords of Dortehan had gathered here, seeking his favor. Not many of them had acquired it.

Lord Höwedes was one of them. And, as years had gone by, they had become more than a sovereign and his subject – they had become true friends who trust each other. How much Klopp wanted their families to be bound by a marriage! But, Lord Höwedes had only one son and his health had failed him early in his life. And, if rumor had it right, young Benedikt wasn’t likely to further the Höwedes bloodline. He certainly couldn’t do it in Mats’ bed. The two of them stood too close to each other, too when Klopp entered the council room and they sprung in their places startled.

“Your Grace!” They turned to greet him. Klopp nodded at them before he sat down in his chair that wasn’t any different from the eleven other ones. Here, kind and lord were equal.

“I was expecting your father.” Klopp noted, signaling to them that they should sit. Mats wasn’t really allowed in this room, but no one objected if he occasionally took part in the king’s council meetings. Especially, since rarely anyone attended them.

“My father, Lord Höwedes was taken ill yesterday. The healers see no chance of his getting better.” Benedikt spoke barely audibly and as Klopp looked at him, with his pale face and frail body it seemed that he was the one who could die any moment. “But, he entrust me with speaking on his behalf on this meeting, whatever it shall be about.”

“I see.” Klopp mused for a moment. He wanted to talk to Lord Höwedes in private because he wanted to discuss something only the two of them knew about. But, it was maybe time to tell their plan to others. More so because one of them was directly affected by it.

“Well, then.” He started and he could sense two pairs of eyes glued to him. “I want to discuss Marco’s engagement with you. And Mario’s presence in the court doesn’t better options.”

“I don’t even get why you want Marco to marry a foreign princess, Your Grace!” Mats spoke with more passion than any other men would allow himself in the kingdom, but Klopp could hear his loyalty and respect towards him as his sovereign. And the boy had a lot to be grateful for. He could have had mother and child both killed for the treason his wife had committed with inviting another man to her bed. “Let alone Pep’s daughter. He rules over a completely insignificant piece of ground. Our smallest lordship is bigger than their whole country!”

“That’s exactly why it would be perfect for Marco.” Klopp said calmly. “You only know one part of our agreement. Pep wants only one thing: his land to stay free and independent. We can give him that.”

“I don’t understand.” Benedikt shook his head. “If Marco weds Pep’s daughter, won’t their crown be his after the king’s death?”

“No.” Klopp said simply. “Let’s be honest here. Marco will be an awful ruler and I love my land too much to let him take the throne after I leave this world. The moment he marries the princess, he will go with her to Bachiano. One day, king Pep will die and Marco’s wife will get the crown. Or, if fate is gracious to Marco, their son will be already old enough to rule.”

“Your Grace, who will be Dortehan’s king, then? Marco is your only son, you can’t dispute his claim to the throne.” Mats said and Klopp had the impression that he already knew where this was going. The boy was smart. In part, that was the reason why he and Lord Höwedes had come to this decision.

“You will be Dortehan’s king, Mats.” He said and his words hung heavy in the air.

For long moments, silence ruled in the room. Klopp watched the two younger man, neither of them willing to speak and holding their breaths. He saw that a thousand thoughts crossed Mats’ mind. Everyone knew that he was the more beloved prince from the two options and it was only his questionable bloodline that stopped him from inheriting the crown. A problem that could be overcome very easily, if Klopp’s plan would work out.

“B–but, Your Grace.” Mats finally stammered. “Marco is your rightful heir. I could never question his claim. And the people would never accept a bastard.”

“They would take you over Marco anytime.” Klopp said, still calm. “And you won’t be a bastard for long.”

“I don’t understand.” Mats shook his head. Klopp could understand his despair. He had grown up in the shadows of his righteousness and never expected to be a king. Even if he had given a thought to that, – what he must have done – the rumors always whispered in and around the court had taken care of his ambitions. And now, his whole world crumbled around him.

“If you were my bastard, we wouldn’t be in a fortunate situation. But, everyone saw Ulla’s belly when she was expecting you, so the rumors can stay only rumors.” He took a deep breath. “I will legitimize you and make you my rightful heir. You will be my successor on the throne.”

“Isn’t this treason?” Benedikt asked shyly.

“It would be.” Klopp nodded. “But only if Marco was your king and not me. But, that’s not the case yet. And for the good of the realm, I hope it won’t happen.” He said, but it was obvious that he hadn’t convinced either of them.

With Lord Höwedes, it had been so much easier. They both understood that being in their position, one couldn’t always do only what one liked. They understood the responsibility that came with their titles and that, to be a true monarch, one had to make hard decisions. He loved his son, more than anything. He wished only the best for Marco and that’s exactly why he had started to think about a plan that would save him from the rigors of being a king of Dortehan.

“Your Grace, he is ready.” Robert suddenly stepped in the chamber and left with the same haste. Klopp stood up, followed by the two younger men in the room.

“Just consider it, Mats. _You_ are our country’s future. You have always been. And Benedikt, please tell your father that I’m thinking of him. His help is missed in the court and I hope he will get better against all odds.” He added before he left, leaving the two bewildered men behind.

 

“This was strange.” Mats sighed once Klopp closed the door behind himself. He had never been the kind of a monarch who had expected the guards to open the doors for him. He had his own hands and this much exercise wouldn’t harm him, he said.

“You are telling this to me? This isn’t how I imagined my first council,” Benedikt said, a mischievous smile forming on his lips before he added “ _Your Grace_.”

“Oh, stop it!” Mats snapped. “The whole idea is absurd! Me as a king? Ridiculous and I can’t imagine how Marco will react when he will learn about it. He will probably hate me, the king and the whole kingdom.”

“Why not, Mats?” Benedikt asked with all seriousness. “Why can’t you be our next king? Jürgen was right, from the two of you, you are the most suitable candidate, by far.”

“But I’m not the king’s son! I’m not a prince!” Mats gaped and flung his hands in the air vigorously, trying to hold onto anything that would keep him away from becoming a sovereign. Both the king and Benedikt were right and he knew it; but, accepting such an offer would feel like spitting in Marco’s eyes and he didn’t want to do it. He loved the blonde as he would love his own brother and not only a half-brother.

“It can be helped very easily, just like your soon-to-be father said.” Benedikt continued. He walked to Mats and embraced him, his hands resting on the raven-haired man’s strong and so elegant hips.

“Why do you want me to take part in this so much? My becoming a prince would mean that we would have to stop seeing each other.”

“Mats.” Benedikt shook his head amused. “We have to stop seeing each other anyways.”

“What?” Mats snapped and shoved away the blonde’s hands from him. He looked at Benedikt completely stunned, his eyes sending lightning bolts towards the older one.

“My father is dying, Mats. That means that I will become a lord whether I like it or not. And it is time for me to move on.”

“Move on? That’s all I’ve ever meant to you? A passing adventure?” Mats shouted, his words amplified by the chamber’s acoustics.

“Come on, there’s no need for this drama!” Benedikt drawled. “We both knew that our responsibilities would catch up to us someday. It happens now. We grew up together and it was no surprise that we started to feel more towards each other. But, this is the time when we have to stop it. I am so sorry, believe me. My duty calls me and that means that I must find a suitable wife and continue the Höwedes bloodline with her.”

“And forget _me_?” Mats asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I could never do that.” Benedikt shook his head, the pain in his voice starting the flow of Mats’ tears.

 

* * *

 

Klopp rarely took advantage of the stature the throne gave him, but this time, he made an exception. He sat on the rather uncomfortable chair, his eyes glued to the blonde standing in front of him completely ignorant of his true situation. He didn’t see the kingdom’s prince in Marco, just like he had never done. He only saw a small kid who lived in a dreamland, running away from scary concepts like _duty_ or _responsibility_. He loved his son; he never ever questioned his love for his son. But, he also loved his country and he knew that he stood in front of a very serious decision. And it might have been already too late to back down.

“Marco! I’m so glad to see you safe and sound!” He smiled at the other man. Marco didn’t say anything to him, he probably didn’t know what to say. He looked exactly like the puppet he was; pulled from one place to another without even noticing the strings in other’s hands. “I understand that Mario was found, too? That’s a relief for all of us. His service for the royal stables would have been sorely– _missed_.”

“Yes, Kloppo – I mean, Your Grace.” That nickname again… was this how they kept calling him in their lonely hours? He felt dizzy just from thinking about them lying in each other’s arms, talking about him.

“Now, everything should be ready for your engagement to Princess Cathy.” Klopp continued.

“My _what_?” Marco snapped and he suddenly fell to the ground. Klopp sighed. They would have a tough job making him forget about that stableboy.


	5. Troubling Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that you had to wait so long for an update, I was in a writing slump and I have been unsure about my own writing lately so your precious feedback is even more welcome than usually. :-) I hope you will enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think of it. :-)

Felix stared at him unbelievingly after Mario had finished telling his story. It was already late in the evening, but neither of them could sleep: Mario because he was too preoccupied with his thoughts and Felix because he wanted to know Mario’s story inside out. The blond boy frowned and Mario saw that he was thinking very hard, trying to process what he had heard. He bit down on his lip.

“If what you told me is true and Jürgen gave you two days, you are in serious trouble, Mario.” He drawled. “He isn’t someone who will change his mind.”

“And isn’t there anything we can do?” Mario asked, despair washing over him again. He was anxious. He didn’t know why he ended up here, but he most certainly didn’t want to lose his head – literally. “Please, Felix, I must see Marco, I mean the prince. Can’t it be arranged somehow?”

“For us, stable boys?” Felix shook his head. “No way. Only if he wants to ride somewhere. But he would usually get a horse from the stable in the castle for that. So– hold on!” He raised his voice as if he had just remembered something and Mario looked at him expectantly. “The fair tomorrow! It should be really big, with jousting and all. I’m sure he won’t miss it!”

A fair? If it would resemble a shopping center even a little bit, Mario was sure that Marco would visit it. He only had to think of a way to meet him. It shouldn’t be too hard. Bay town couldn’t have more than a few thousand residents and he doubted that everyone would go to that fair.

“Only…” Felix started, bringing Mario’s spirits down immediately. “We, stable boys don’t get much rest that day. A lot of noblemen come to the city for the fair and we must tend to their horses.”

“Can’t you–” Mario wore his most pleading face.

“No way.” Felix stopped him immediately. “We can’t do a shift without anyone missing. I feel for you and I’d like to help you, but this is impossible. If you want to meet Marco, you must find another way.”

“Felix, please. I don’t know anything about horses! I’m not the Mario you know, I’d only be a burden.” It felt strange to beg his little brother, but what else could he do?

“Do you have any idea what Philipp will do if he finds out? He will flay you alive!” Felix protested. Mario could see that he was saying all this because of concern for him, even though they weren’t quite brothers. He had been right about their bond and that it would make them stick together even in these unusual circumstances. He could only hope that his friendship with Marco was this strong, too.

“Let me worry about it.” Mario smiled at his brother. “If Marco hasn’t forgotten about me, I won’t have to worry about Fips’ punishment because we’ll be on our way home before he knows it.” He reassured his little brother and he hoped that it would indeed be so.

 

* * *

 

Marco had never been in such a mess in his life. First, he had found himself in a fantasy world and it had been bad enough. It had turned out that he was the prince of this kingdom, but he could have coped with that. But now, he was expected to marry Cathy, which was wrong on so many levels. Mats was his best friend in real life and apparently his bastard brother here. How could he marry his fiancée? Or already his wife – who knew how time passed on earth while they were wasting their time here, wherever ‘here’ was.

He had gone through a long talk with Kloppo – King Jürgen, to be precise – about his responsibilities and his obligations towards folk and kingdom. It had been boring enough on its own but to sit through another meeting about a fair’s final arrangements was too draining for him. And on top of that, he had to face Mats.

 

_He could finally stretch his legs a bit and he lay down on a couch. He hated being a prince. He hadn’t imagined it to be like this. He had expected lazy days with servants doing everything for him and while there actually were servants for him, they mostly only fetched things he needed for carrying out his own duties. Even then, he felt bad about letting others do even the slightest work for him._

_He hadn’t done any physical work but listening to and reading reports that hadn’t meant anything to him had been more exhausting than the longest training session. He wanted to sleep, mostly because he still believed that he would wake up on Earth again. He closed his eyes, waiting for a slumber to take over him when the door of his chamber burst open and Mats stormed in._

_“Marco, I need to talk to you!” He shouted and it was the last drop Marco needed for his head to start hurting. “I’m not supposed to tell you this but I feel like I must. You know, we are brothers after all.”_

_Brothers. It still sounded so strange to Marco. He got along well with Mats as a teammate, but having him as a brother? Rather not, thank you very much._

_“What’s wrong?” Mats asked when he noticed Marco’s bad mood._

_“Apart from that I apparently am supposed to marry your fianc– Never mind.” Marco waved when he realized that this Mats wouldn’t understand his reservations against his proposal to Cathy. To him, Cathy was just the princess of a neighboring kingdom._

_“Great, because you should be prepared for what I’m going to tell you.” Mats added more drama to his voice and he took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t marry Cathy.”_

_“What?” Marco snapped as he sat up, staring at Mats bewildered. Maybe this world wasn’t so much different at all and Mats was in love with her here, too?_

_“Your father wants you to marry her only to get you out of the way. He thinks that you would ruin Dortehan and he wants me to succeed him on the throne. I know it sounds strange, but he thinks that he can pull it through. He will legitimize me and you will get to rule over Bachiano. You probably don’t want to hear it from me, but I felt like I had to warn you. I have nothing to do with it, you must believe me.” He added as if he was afraid of Marco’s rage._

_In truth, Marco couldn’t have been left more unimpressed. He didn’t care about who would be Klopp’s successor. He wanted to go home as soon as possible and forget about Dortehan, being a prince and everything. He wanted to be on their yacht again with Mario. Mario! Who knew what he was going through!_

_“Marco, do you know what this means?” Mats shot him a concerned look._

_“Yes, but it’s the least of my worries right now.” Marco said._

_“How come? What happened? Is it about Mario? I hope he didn’t get hurt!”_

_“Why would he have gotten hurt?” Marco asked frightened. Mats’ tone told him that he could easily imagine his friend being hurt._

_“Well, you know, your father isn’t really delighted that you’re seeing him so often. There’s a reason why he got rid of him and sent him to the stables. It’s hard to wed you when there are rumors around about you two.” He shrugged as if it was no big business._

 

Actually, it was very big business. If Mario had gotten hurt, Marco didn’t know what he was going to do. He lay on his bed, thinking hard about how they could have ended up here. He went through their holiday over and over again, looking for any explanation. Even the most far-fetched idea would do. But, he couldn’t come up with anything. Either there was no explanation for what was happening to them or he didn’t have a big enough imagination to see it.

Sleep evaded him and he tossed and turned on the bed. He heard Marcel rummaging in the adjoining room, clearing away the plates he had eaten his dinner from and taking care of his bathwater. The window was open and he heard the thousand sounds of the night city. It seemed that Bay Town never rested.

He had no idea how long it took him, but he fell asleep eventually. It was a dreamless and restless shallow slumber. It wasn’t more than dozing off because he was startled awake not much later by a voice dangerously close to his ears.

“I’m ready for you, my prince.”

Marco’s eyes snapped open and they widened in terror as he was face to face with Marcel lying on his bed.

“Marcel, what the fuck!” He shouted and he sprung up, darting out of his bed. He was even more terrified because in the meantime he unwillingly noticed that his best friend wasn’t just in his bed – he was in his bed, naked.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, my prince, but I thought that with Mario gone maybe you wanted to–” He said sheepishly with true regret in his voice.

“What? Sleep with you?” Marco snapped. He thought that his heart would stop beating when he understood the true meaning of Marcel’s words. “Wait! Do you mean that we’ve done _that_?”

“Only since Mario left the castle. And I don’t mind it. I’m glad when I can be of service to you.” Marcel said honestly and Marco couldn’t believe his ears.

“Okay, we will stop that now, then.” He said firmly.

“Don’t you want me?” He asked. “Should I fetch someone else?”

“No!” Marco shouted. “Look, just go to your room and have a good night’s sleep, okay?”

“Is everything alright, my prince? You behaved very strangely today.” Marcel frowned.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Marco said hastily. Marcel was making no effort to cover his body. Hell, Marco would have been satisfied if he had covered at least his crotch. “I’m only tired.”

“As you say, my prince.” Marcel nodded and he climbed out of the bed, showing more than Marco would have liked to see. “Should I wake you up earlier tomorrow? Maybe you would like to visit the fair before it gets very hot.”

What was Marco supposed to say to this? He couldn’t care less about the stupid fair or the jousting tournament. But, as a prince he was most likely expected to appear there. And maybe, he could meet Mario, too. He had tried to leave the castle earlier that day, but he had been asked to turn back and he had known better than to protest.

“I think it is a good idea.” He said to Marcel, trying to sound as grateful as possible.

“I’ll wake you up just before sunrise, then.” His servant nodded and Marco’s jaw dropped. What was the normal time to get up at in this world? “Good night, my prince, and if you change your mind, just ring the bell.”

“Thank you Marcel. Good night!”

He kept staring at the floor until Marcel closed the door behind him and then he let out a sigh. He couldn’t find his place in this world. How could he be such an atrocious person? What was different in his life here that made him start off on a completely different road? Why did everyone treat him like a spoiled child? Or was he only blind to see the similarities between his real life and this universe?

He tried hard to remember what Mario had told him back on the yacht. He had spoken about Marco being the symbol of Dortmund’s bright future and the club’s very own – prince. The word struck him strange and his awe only got bigger as he remembered how he had described Mario’s position at Bayern: a horse put in harness. It couldn’t be an accident and it might be their first lead to bring some sense into all of this.

But he didn’t know what to make out of it. From the two of them, Mario was the one who always found a way and a solution and Marco couldn’t wait until he would have the opportunity to share his realization with the brunette.


	6. Brotherly Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will have to wait a bit longer for Marco's and Mario's next meeting, but I wanted to explore other characters first. I hope you don't mind and please let me know what you think about this chapter. Your feedback has been amazing so far and I can never get enough of reading your comments. :-)

Mats lay in his bed after a restless night. It had been almost dawn when he had finally fallen asleep and even then, he had been startled awake from his slumber by a troubling dream. Three lords had put on the crown on his head, just like tradition dictated and he had stood up to face his folk. That’s when he had woken up because a horrible feeling had grasped him. It hadn’t been the crown that he had minded. It had been the look in Benni’s eyes. He hadn’t looked at him with love, it had been the look of a subject.

He hadn’t even tried to go back to sleep after this. The priests used to say that dreams were God’s and the angels’ way to communicate with their believers to stop them from making a wrong decision in life. The sages were more rational. According to them, one’s mind talked through dreams and told what one should do. In either case, Mats had been reassured that becoming a king wasn’t his path to a happy life. Not that he had needed any affirmation on that.

He valued Benni’s love more than any kingdom or power in the world. He knew that Benni thought that they couldn’t be together any more, but there simply had to be a way. Even if Benni would marry a lord’s daughter, they could still be together, meeting in secret, just like they had done since their teenage years. And if he had to refuse the throne to be able to do that, so be it. He would not hesitate.

He sat up in the bed and looked out the window. The first sunrays were gleaming over the huge forest not far from Bay Town. On the meadow between the city limits and the woods a sea of tents had grown out of the ground during the night and next to them, there was a huge track for the jousting tournament. When he had been younger, Mats had tried his luck with this sport and he had won many duels. Actually, he had been unbeaten but he had stopped with it once he had learned the true reason behind his success. He might not have been the king’s son, but he had been looked after and each of his opponent had been politely asked in advance to make sure that he would win. He had gotten sick of this pretense right away and his repulsion had been reinforced when he had seen Marco cheating his way to winning the tournaments.

Of course, the blonde prince had never participated in jousting himself. His fragile royal body was too precious for that. Instead, he had hired the best knights in the kingdom or from other lands to compete for him. He usually organized a house tournament for them to make sure that he had the best knight indeed and he minded no expense. And to compete for the heir was the biggest honor for a knight, so it was a win-win situation for both parties. Mostly. If that knight didn’t lose.

“Are you already awake, my prince?” Mats’ servant’s shy voice startled him out of his musings.

Erik was a very young boy but he had served Mats ever since he had been old enough to have a personal servant. And he wasn’t going to let him go, because the brunette always read his wishes and fulfilled them even before Mats could utter them. Even now, he had in his hands Mats’ clothes for the day, picked out to suit the weather and their wearer’s comfort.

“I am not your prince, Erik.” Mats smiled at the young boy. It was Erik’s only fault; he couldn’t stop calling him prince, although thinking about it, this might be the worst time to get him out of this habit.

“I apologize, my lord.” Erik nodded politely and laid the clothes on the bed. “Shall I help you dress?”

“Yes, thank you.” Mats sighed and got rid of his gown.

He walked to a chair and sat down on it. Erik in the meantime left the room only to return with a bowl of hot water and a razor and soap. He readied Mats for shaving and started to rid him from his stubble from his cheeks.

“Ouch!” Mats cried out when the blade cut into his skin, letting a few drops of blood escape.

“I’m so sorry, my prince!” Erik hastened to say, forgetting his earlier promise and he quickly pressed his sleeve on the wound.

“It’s okay, Erik.” Mats calmed him down and pushed his hand away. “Just be more careful, okay?”

Erik nodded and resumed his task, concentrating on it with his lips pressed into a straight line. He was careful enough and in the end, he trimmed Mats’ moustache and beard. Mats stood up and washed his face in another bowl of warm water.

“Are you sure I should get this one on, first?” He asked amused when Erik brought him his doublet.

“I’m sorry, my prince!” Erik said with a face on fire.

“Is everything alright, Erik?” Mats asked, waiting until Erik walked to the bed and grabbed his shirt now.

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?” The brunette boy asked him in a shaky voice.

“I don’t know. You seem a bit discomposed today.” Mats shrugged.

His note must have changed Erik’s attitude about denying that anything troubled him. “Can I ask you something?” He started afraid, but he went on when he saw Mats’ nod. “Is it true that His Grace will legitimize you?”

Mats thought that he would faint right there. How fast actually did the news travel in this castle? How could Erik know about something he himself had learned only the day before? There was something odd about it.

“Who told you that?” Mats snapped a bit harsher than intended and Erik flinched in fear.

“Julian, my prince.” He stammered.

“Julian.” Mats repeated. Did Benni tell his own servant about their plot? But why would he do so? And even if he had told him, when had Julian had the opportunity to tell Erik? Every answer Mats got seemed to double the number of questions.

“Yes.” Erik nodded. “I hate to admit it, but he might have overheard a conversation between Lord Höwedes and Lord Benedikt when Lord Benedikt returned home yesterday. And when Julian came to the castle just an hour ago, he told me.”

_Those gossipy servants_ , Mats thought annoyed. When he had been a small kid, his nanny had used to scare him with tales about a savage tribe who would cut out their servants’ tongues. It had only been meant to make him listen to her but now he saw the practical use of such a ruthless practice. So Julian had heard something and he had decided to share it with his love. Both Mats and Benni had known about their servants’ romance and neither of them minded it really. In a way, it was almost fitting that not only they, but also their servants loved each other.

“Wait! What was Julian doing in the castle?” Mats demanded when he understood what Erik’s words really meant.

“Oh, he had to tell the king that Lord Benedikt had asked to be excused of participating in today’s tournament, but his father is seriously ill and he has to tend to him.” Erik explained.

Mats sighed. Benni was the only one who could help him through a fair or a jousting tournament. What was he supposed to do now? Sit his way through hours of watching men on horses running against each other with long sticks and maybe listen to Marco’s self-conceited remarks once his knight would win?

“So is it true?” Erik asked and Mats shot him a bewildered look. “Will you be made a legitimate son of the king?”

“It might happen, yes.” Mats nodded.

“I see.” Erik hummed, but it was clear that this wasn’t what he wanted to know. “And in that case, would you become the heir?”

“I don’t know, Erik.” Mats snapped. “And I don’t see why that should trouble you.”

“Only, if you will be a prince, you will have no say in who will be your servant!” Erik blurted out accusingly and he was appalled when he realized what he had done.

He opened his mouth to apologize again but Mats stopped him with a wave of his hand. He could understand the boy now. He and Kehli, the reeve didn’t get along well and Erik was worried about his occupation. Or maybe he feared more that he wouldn’t get the chance to meet Julian anymore.

“We’ll see about that, Erik.” Mats promised him. “But maybe you want to bring my pants now. I can’t go to the fair wearing only a shirt!”

 

* * *

 

King Jürgen climbed into his coach just when the sun appeared above the horizon. Mats was already sitting on one of the cushioned seats. The king smiled at him and sat down next to him and signaled for the coach to get going. He wanted to get to the fair before the masses would arrive. Marco was supposed to go with them, but Sebastian had told him that the prince had left the castle earlier. It struck him strange. His only son wasn’t an early riser at all. He couldn’t remember the last time when he had seen Marco out of his quarters before noon.

Mats was different. He was more like a prince was supposed to be. Even if he wasn’t one. Not yet, at least. Mats wasn’t his son, but he had always looked after him as if he had been. He had never made difference between Mats and Marco. If anything, he had favored the raven haired. Mats hadn’t stood a lot of chance in the court as a bastard and Jürgen had taken big risks by making him one of his counsellors. But Mats was a smart boy and he gave him good advice all the time. And he wouldn’t be his bastard for long…

“Have you thought about my plan?” He asked the young man who seemed startled by his question.

“Yes, Your Grace.” He nodded, calmer now. “Actually, I talked to Marco about it.” He admitted sheepishly as if he was awaiting Jürgen’s rage.

“I thought that you would.” He smiled instead. “You’ve always had an idea about what was right and you stuck to it. Even if you had to do something stupid to comply with your idea.” He shook his head amused. “So how did prince charming react?”

“That’s it!” Mats sighed. “He was– strange. As if he didn’t care about it at all. It didn’t make sense. He has been waiting for the day when he would be the king ever since he understood what being a prince means. I don’t know why he doesn’t mind being robbed of his destiny.”

“I might have a very good idea about it.” Jürgen said dryly.

“Mario?” Mats asked and the king nodded. “He clearly cares about him a lot.”

“He shouldn’t. He is supposed to marry a princess and continue the bloodline. I expect you to do the same once you are announced as my son.” He shot Mats a warning glance. “Just like Benedikt understands his duty now that his father is dying.” His knowing eyes rested on Mats’ face, watching as his jaw dropped and he couldn’t even try to hide his bewilderment. “Do you think that I’m blind? Or that Lord Höwedes is blind? We’ve known about your – hm, affection earlier than you did. Not that we were surprised. You two grew up together so this was more or less inevitable.”

“Inevitable?” Mats snapped angrily. “It’s not just a passing mood! We–” He stopped mid-sentence but his unuttered words hung in the air. _We love each other_.

“Mats.” He sighed. “Love is a fantastic feeling, but it can deceive you very easily. You two will never be together. You both are meant for big things. You are born leaders. Yes, you will rule the country together one day. But, you will have your own families and wives and you will forget about what you had.”

“No, that’s not true!” Mats objected vehemently. “Why do we have to choose duty and responsibility? Why don’t I have a say in what I want to do with my life?”

“Because” Jürgen hissed through gritted teeth “you will be a prince very soon. And then, a king. Your people will look up to you. They need your guidance. If you don’t lead them, who will?”

“Marco.” Mats said firmly and the king burst out laughing. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t seen that he has changed! I wouldn’t write him off. Maybe he just needed this warning to understand that being a prince isn’t just fun.”

“Oh, please.” Jürgen waved his hand.

Truth to be told, he had sensed what Mats was trying to say. When he had talked to Marco yesterday, it had felt as if he hadn’t been talking to his son exactly. But he wasn’t a romantic. He didn’t believe that Marco could change. Maybe he was only trying to convince everyone that he could perform his duties and keep seeing Mario at the same time. It wouldn’t have been so alien from him.

“Marco can’t see further than his own needs and entertainment. Can you recall a single time when he did something nice for someone?” Mats couldn’t argue with that and he sat with slumped shoulders. “I know that you are his brother and that you want to see the good in him. Believe me, I wanted to see the good in him for years. But, you simply can’t see something that isn’t there.”

“You are wrong and I will show you that!” Mats spat out finally, earning a roaring laughter from the king.

“Do you know what, Mats? I’ll take that challenge. Today might be the best day for it. If there will be anyone who gets admittance to Marco’s tent apart from his usual friends, I will give him one more chance. Deal?”

Mats gulped and Jürgen knew that he was testing his brotherly feels now. During every fair, each lord was supposed to build a tent so the poor could meet them directly, seeking solutions for their problems. It was a custom introduced by Jürgen and not everyone liked it. In fact, most of the lords only sent an unimportant servant and made him sit behind a desk for a few hours, making notes and then burning them. Not everyone wanted to hear what the people had to say.

Sometimes, Jürgen had the feeling that Marco only had a tent on his own so that a sudden rain wouldn’t soak his clothes and ruin his hair. And because Sebastian always arranged a tent being built for him, too. But not everyone was admitted there. Mostly, the tents were a place of drinking for Marco’s friends while the poor and peasants waited outside– without results. No one ever got the chance to tell the prince his or her complaints. There were times when Marco would have his servant Marcel sit there, other times, Mats did it for him, but the blonde prince always found more interesting things to do.

“Deal.” Mats finally said, after weighing his options.

“Of course, you are not allowed to warn him, Mats. You will be in Lord Höwedes’s tent in case Benedikt hadn’t arranged anyone to take over his role.”

Mats winced when he realized that his chances had just gotten lower with this condition but there was no backing out anymore. He had to trust in his brother. Even if that brother was Prince Marco.


	7. Answers

Mario stood amazed by the sea of tents spreading out before his eyes. He had expected a considerably smaller fair. Maybe a small marketplace filled up with vendors and a few sideshows, but this fair was _huge_. There was no way he would find Marco in this crowd of people. Felix had told him something about the noblemen’s tents, but his brother hadn’t been very hopeful of finding the prince there. Felix held a very bad opinion on Marco and Mario couldn’t understand it at all. What had Marco ever done to Felix to make the young boy hate him?

The Marco whom Mario knew hadn’t done anything at all, but who knew what had happened in this world. Mario had talked to a few of the other stable boys as well, and neither of them had a high opinion on their prince. And if Marco wasn’t going to change his behavior very soon, Mario would join them rather sooner than later.

They had been in this world for an entire day already and the blonde hadn’t showed any signs that he was interested in his friend’s well-being although from the two of them, it was certainly him who had inquiring about the other one easier. All it needed for them to meet was one servant sent for Mario by Marco, but of course the blonde was too dense to realize it. Mario shouldn’t have been surprised, he had always been the more apt. He still remembered the lost puppy face Marco had on his first day at BVB.

The older one needed a stable environment around him, with little or no change at all and he could get on very well in a world like that. But once he was taken out from his usual surroundings, he panicked and looked for someone to stick to. And it was apparent that this time, it would be Mario.

The brunette sighed and started off towards the myriad tents. He had to hurry if he wanted to find Marco before Fips would find out that he wasn’t in the stable. Maybe it had already happened and there was a squad of headhunters searching for him. Kloppo’s words still echoed in his ears. Fips had been given the order to kill him and yet, he had spared his life. But something told Mario that the next time, he might not be this generous.

He walked past the first few tents and the crowd around him got bigger. There was no chance he could spot Marco here. Maybe he should go back to the stable. It was still early and if he got back there in time to tend to the noblemen’s horses, Philipp would understand it.

“Mario!” He heard someone calling his name. It wasn’t just someone, it was _him_. Mario could recognize that voice everywhere. He spun around and cut his way through the wave of people walking towards the center of the fair.

Marco stood at the edge of the fair and when he noticed Mario pushing his way towards him, he started off. He was sitting on a horse, accompanied by his friend Marcel. The crowd opened up in front of them and although some peasants’ hands reached towards the prince, begging for money, no one interfered with their approaching.

They stopped in front of Mario and Marco jumped off his horse. Mario had sworn to be hard on his friend and accuse him for neglecting him, but when he was so close to Marco, he simply hugged him, relieved. Marco returned the embrace and held him tight, as if he wanted to make sure that it was really him.

“Um, my prince, I don’t think this is the right place.” Marcel interrupted their special moment, on his feet, holding the horses’ leads in his hands.

Mario quickly looked around and watched the curious and somewhat shocked faces around them. Some whispered something unintelligible. At first, Mario didn’t understand their reaction but then, he remembered Felix’s words. Of course, these men and women thought that he and Marco–

Not that he hadn’t given it a thought, but they were professional footballers and best friends and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship with proposing something that wasn’t okay with Marco. He had had a crush on Marco Reus for years, but he was wise enough to know that it should remain what it was: a crush and nothing to do with love.

“You are right, Marcel.” Marco nodded. It was incredible how prince-like he was. He had found his new role very flattering for sure. It was easy for him. Try to scrub horseshit and appreciate it in the meantime!

“Maybe your tent would be a more suitable place.” Marcel suggested sheepishly.

“Yes, you are right. Please, take care of our horses and wait for us there.” Marco instructed him and Marcel started off immediately, leading the horses in a comfortable pace.

Mario couldn’t stop being amazed by Marco’s manners. It seemed nothing like his best friend but at the same time, it was like Marco completely. The blonde had always behaved like this, but because he was a footballer and Mario saw him as one, it wasn’t so apparent. But now, when Marco was a prince officially, his grace couldn’t be missed. Mario would have stood there in awe for a long time if it wasn’t for Marco dragging him behind a tent where they were out of sight.

“I’m so happy that you are fine!” Marco said, truly relieved and grateful.

“And I’m glad that you seem to care about me after all!” Mario snapped, pouting.

“I’m sorry, Sunny, but things in the castle are pretty heated and I couldn’t leave the castle to see you. And I couldn’t send anyone for you. They think that we are– how should I say it?” He bit down on his lip.

“Fucking buddies?” Mario suggested and Marco’s eyes widened in shock.

“You know about it?” He gaped incredulously.

“Yeah, my little brother Felix was kind enough to catch me up on the news around here.” Mario said. He really had no idea how to feel about it. It seemed absurd, but at the same time, it strengthened his longing for the blonde. He could get Marco. In this world, he could. “Or maybe I should have gotten the hint when the king threatened me with beheading for ruining his son’s engagement and honor.”

“What?!” Marco yelled. “Kloppo wants you dead?”

“Oh, imagine my shock when he told me that.” Mario snorted. Maybe he wasn’t taking the menace seriously enough, but somehow, he couldn’t believe that Kloppo could harm him. If he was at least a bit like in real life, there was no way he would have him killed.

“Well, hearing that I’m supposed to marry Mats’ Cathy wasn’t much more pleasant.” Marco retorted. It sounded ridiculous compared to Mario’s problems.

“Yeah, because living with a wonderful woman for the rest of your life as a king is such a horrible prospect!” He mocked him.

“It is for me!” Marco shouted and Mario was left speechless by his vehemence. It seemed that his friend had a secret he hadn’t told him. For a moment, Mario even thought that Marco’s biggest problem was living with a _woman_ , but maybe it was only what he wanted to be the case. “What’s this smell?” He suddenly cut Mario’s musings short.

“What?” He snapped, amazed by his friend’s denseness. Did he really think that Mario was this stupid and that he could make him forget about how he had neglected him with such a pathetic excuse?

“This smell.” Marco said with all seriousness. “Don’t you feel it?”

Mario breathed in the sweet scent that tickled his nostrils. It was a familiar scent but he didn’t know where he had smelled it earlier. He sensed frankincense and something really calming. “It must be a fortune-teller.” He shrugged, ready to return to their previous talk with their strange contest of who had it worse.

“Exactly.” Marco nodded and started off between the tents so quickly that Mario could barely keep up with him. And when he finally caught up to him, Marco stopped abruptly and the brunette bumped into him.

“Ouch!”

“Isn’t she familiar?” Marco asked with a content and satisfied grin on his face. Mario looked past him and he saw an old woman staring into a crystal ball.

“No idea.” He said finally.

“My point exactly! Everyone in this world is someone we know, right? Mats, Marcel, Kloppo on my part, and you’ve met Felix and Fips. This lady here is unfamiliar. Or at least, she might seem to be, because I remember her. She is the witch we met the day before we woke up here and I’d be surprised if she didn’t have to do anything with this all.” Marco explained and before Mario could say anything to that, he was already on his way to call the lady to account with a determined look.

  


* * *

  


Mats was running between the tents frustrated. Why couldn’t he find the ones he wanted to talk to when he needed them? Klopp had forbidden him to talk to Marco and warn him about their deal but there was nothing stopping him from asking Erik to do the same for him. If only he could find his servant! The brunette had vanished into thin air the moment they had arrived at the noblemen’s tents. Mats didn’t have his own, but he used to fill in for either the king or usually for Marco. And today he had to be in the Höwedes’ tent. He was running out of time, because the peasants had already started to gather around the middle of the meadow, so they wouldn’t miss the nobleman who could help them.

He felt the urge to go to Marco’s tent and speak with him, but he knew that it wouldn’t go unnoticed. Sebastian Kehl stood next to the king’s tent and observed everything with eager eyes. He nodded in Mats’ direction when their looks met and Mats returned the small gesture. That moment, king Jürgen stepped out and welcomed the countless people awaiting admittance. He sent Mats an urging glance and the dark-haired man couldn’t do anything then to start off in Benni’s tent’s way.

There weren’t many people standing in front of it. The Höwedes lordship was the closest to Bay Town and Benni’s father was famous for directly speaking to his people. If anyone had a problem, they didn’t have to wait for a fair to speak to him. Mats looked longingly at the Höwedes flag: a golden lion protecting the crown with a sword on a blue and white field. How often had he imagined his family’s crest animal, a graceful deer join it there, signaling their love for each other. His eyes were glued to the flag as he stepped into the tent and a startled voice brought him back to reality.

“My prince!” Erik cried out as he pushed Julian off himself and tried hard to cover his naked torso.

Mats watched the two young men standing next to each other and watching him ashamed, Julian holding his pants in their place with his hands. Mats blushed as much as the two boys and they looked at each other incredulously. This certainly wasn’t how Mats had wanted to find Erik. His servant seemed to agree with him. He cast his eyes down and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

“Lord Höwedes has asked me to listen to the people today instead of him.” Julian explained, breaking the silence. Obviously, he thought that his presence had to be explained first of all.

“I see that you already saw the first one.” Mats chuckled, seeing the two lovebirds being so embarrassed. He couldn’t be mad at them. They rarely met, almost only if Benni came to see Mats and he brought Julian along.

“I apologize, my lord.”  Julian bit down on his lip.

“There’s no need for that, Julian.” Mats smiled and walked to them to pat Erik’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about your service, I’ll be glad to stay here. Go and enjoy the fair.” Both of them looked at them disbelievingly until he sat down on the chair and pointed at the entrance of the tent. “I’m serious. Now, go!”

Erik reached for his shirt and pulled it on hesitantly. Julian followed his example, but he still wasn’t sure that Mats really meant what he had said. “You really don’t mi–” He started, but he was cut short by Mats’ laugh.

“Just go finally! On one condition.” He called after the two boys already on their way out. They turned around, scared. “Erik, you’ll find Marco and tell him that if he wants the throne, he must admit a few men to his tent. And of course, I don’t have to tell you that it should stay between us, right?”

They nodded in unison.

  


* * *

  


“What’s going on here?” Marco charged at the fortune-teller, nearly knocking her desk over. She looked up at him calmly, staying in role.

“Show me your hand and I tell you.” She bellowed in a faked accent. “Only one silver for you.”

“Forget about my money. Send us back to our world, you witch!” Marco yelled and Mario watched him incredulously. What had gotten into his friend? Was he really serious with his suspicion? Because he sounded like a small kid, complaining about enchantments and witches. Maybe he had read too many tales to his nephew Nico.

“I sense negative energy around you, young man.” She continued in her calm manner.

“Negative energy? I’ll give you negativity you–” Marco raised his hand, but Mario was quick to stop him and he stepped next to the blonde.

“Look. You might think that we are crazy, but we aren’t from this world and we have a reason to believe that you have something to do with it.” Mario said, getting unsure midway through his sentence. He must have sounded like a madman, saying this.

“Hm, that sounds like another version of me might do.” The old woman mused out loud.

“Excuse me?” Mario asked with his jaw dropped, stunned by the fortune-teller’s reaction. He hadn’t thought that his words would be taken seriously.

“There’s an infinite number of universes, and each of them has a version of all of us. And traveling between them is possible.” She elaborated.

“Now, that’s wonderful news.” Marco said cheerfully. “You just have to send us back home, then.”

“Not so quickly, young man.” She raised her voice. “Your versions here still exist, some part of them is living in you. I can only send to your world _them_ , and not you.”

“So what can we do now?” Mario panicked. If there was no way back for them, were they really supposed to learn to live in this world? He was sure that Marco would manage somehow, but what about him?

“Magic serves a purpose. You were sent here on a purpose. You need to learn your lesson and then, when it’s done, you will go home.” She explained almost bored.

“Right, and what’s that lesson?” Marco snorted.

“That, I cannot tell you. It’s something you must find out for yourselves.” She said and just like that, she closed the curtains in her stand in front of them.


	8. A New Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story is back after a long break, and honestly, I'm not quite sure about it. The plot is clearly in my head, but I feel like this fic needs much more attention than I can give to it right now. I can't promise you any pace of updates, I'll give it a try though and see how it works out in the upcoming days. In either way, you telling me if you are still interested in the story will surely help me get going. :-)

A pompous fanfare announced the start of the jousting tournament. Mats heard out the last peasant who had come to see Lord Höwedes and tell him about a band of robbers killing his livestock. There weren’t many who wanted to speak to their lord and Mats was utterly grateful for it. He couldn’t be focused on his task anyway. His attention often wavered, his thoughts taking him miles away, towards Benni who must have been sitting by his father’s bedside, holding the old man’s hand and feeling life leaving the fragile and frail body.

Benni needed him and yet, Mats couldn’t be by his side. The blond had been right: they couldn’t be each other’s. Not anymore. They had grown up and it was about time they put the cheerful childhood fantasies away. In days, Benni would take over his father’s role and he would have to find a wife for himself, and if the king’s plan would go through, the same awaited Mats. A long and unhappy life in the service of their folk, as their teacher had taught them many years ago.

It was the same responsibility for his people that led Mats out of the tent despite his brain complaining about the upcoming tournament. It was such a pretentious undertaking. Young knights challenging for a title that meant nothing. Of course, most of the handsome men would find a stupid enough girl who would fall in love with them for seeing in them something that wasn’t there. Mats knew half of today’s contestants very well; they might have been knights in shining armors and with unstained banners, but they were weak. Half of them wouldn’t be able to fight in a real battle, their bringing up focused more on presentation than actual combat skills.

The king was already sitting on the wooden stand when Mats arrived. The chair next to him was empty and the raven-haired frowned. Marco hadn’t missed a tournament ever since he had come to this world. He wanted to see his knight win and he wanted to show everyone that he was simply unbeatable. Of course, collecting the money he won in unfair bets was also one of his favorite acts during the days of fairs. Although, lately not many dared to make bets with him. These jousting tournaments had become a joke since Marco had started to buy the victory on them, but it wasn’t something that King Jürgen could be bothered with. More urging problems needed his attention.

The older man welcomed Mats with a nod of his head and the raven-haired sat down in the chair right behind Marco’s. He had no idea if his plan had worked or not, if Erik had managed to find the prince. But then, it wouldn’t mean much. Mats considered Marco stupid enough to refuse this last chance on purpose, without understanding that he might lose the throne if he didn’t change his attitude very quickly. Although, the conversation they had had the day before had told Mats that Marco might not care about the crown anymore, which was very suspicious. Marco was born to rule, at least that’s what he had always told Mats when they had been growing up.

The king waited until Mats sat down and then he turned to his seneschal. Kehl was sitting a row lower and from his posture it looked like he had everything under control. He had been a dutiful servant for the kingdom and he had deserved a manor in the country, but he didn’t want to hear about it. He felt like his place was next to the king, managing his courtyard which he did excellently.

“Tell me, Sebastian, are there any news about where the prince is?”

“I’m afraid there are not, Your Grace.” He said very formally. Mats and he had never gotten on well. Kehl must have considered that a bastard’s presence brought shame to the crown and Mats already dreaded the moment when the old seneschal would learn about the king’s plan to make him the heir. “Many waited before his tent, to no avail. He hadn’t turned up and once again, it had to be Fornell who had had to do the prince’s duty for him. Should I send out someone to look for him?”

“No, there’s no need to do that. I’m sure that he will turn up eventually. He won’t miss his knight’s duel.” Jürgen waved away the offer, not taking his eyes off Mats.

There was a hint of pleasure form victory in his sparkling glance. As if he wanted to make sure that Mats understood his defeat. Marco had had one job to do, and he had ruined everything. Erik hadn’t found him and it was too late to do anything about it. Marco had shown today for the last time that he was incompetent and not right for ruling a country and there was no way that he would get another chance.

“Who is his champion this time?” The king turned back to his loyal servant.

“One with the name Kirch. I haven’t heard of him and he isn’t a knight at all. But, rumor says that he is a great warrior and that the prince had asked him to stay in the capital and be his personal guard.” Kehl explained. He only feigned that he didn’t know anything more. Mats was sure that he had thoroughly checked the background of this man and by now, he must have known everything worth knowing about him.

“I didn’t know that there was something Marco needed to be protected from.” The king laughed and he stood up, which made the crowd start cheering. They loved their king, even though the kingdom wasn’t in the best of states. But, a fair and especially a tournament were the best cure for any discontent. They forgot about their problems in the midst of the many attractions and cheap wine.

“It is time we started the tournament!” Jürgen’s loud voice cut through the murmur of the crowd. “The best knights have gathered from all over our beloved country to match their skills in front of you. Let the best win!”

A wave of joy and excitement swept over the spectators and soon, the first two knights stepped forward. Both were riding a huge black charger stallion, with one covered with a gold-silver caparison and the other with a red-black one. The riders sat in the saddles with a straight back in complete jousting armor that almost blinded Mats in the early afternoon sunshine. The riders trotted over in front of the king and bowed before taking their places at the end of the jousting field. They took the lances and shields from their squires.

“In the first match-up, Sir Stefan Kieβling meets Oliver Kirch, the champion of His Royal Highness, the prince!” Yelled the tournament master. A second later, a loud trumpet sound signaled the start of the match.

Everyone became silent in a split second as the knights dug their heels into their horses’ flanks urging them to go faster and faster. The two stallions moved gracefully. They had been bred to do this and their muscles helped them reach a speed that seemed almost impossible. Everything happened so quickly. Just a few seconds after the trumpet’s call died out, there was a loud crash as Kirch’s lance hit his opponent’s armor, the wooden shield bursting into a thousand pieces and its owner falling to the ground. His horse kept on running until it was stopped at the end of the field.

Mats closed his eyes and prayed that the knight stood up which he did. Ever since he had stopped participating in these tournaments, he understood the real danger of them. These knights weren’t just entertaining the crowd; they were risking their own lives and that for nothing. Kirch led his horse in front of the king again and took another bow before he took his helmet off. He revealed a handsome and very manly face. His blonde hair danced in the mild breeze and Mats thought that he heard a few young girls sighing because of the sight in front of them. The king was left unimpressed. He accepted the man’s salute and then showed the tournament master that they shall move on.

A few young boys ran on the field and quickly reorganized the sand as much as they could. The next matches weren’t as straightforward as the first one. Once, the two challenging knights had to charge at each other for five times before one of them finally lost his balance. The sun was already close to setting when they were done with the first three rounds, and only four knights were left in the fight for the trophy.

“These tournaments have lost their shine since you don’t show yourself in them.” Mats heard an amused voice next to him. He looked that way and saw Robert standing there. The First Knight of the king smiled down at him, his eyes sparkling. It was a rare sight. Sir Lewandowski always kept his calm and formal expression.

“And what about you? I can’t remember you ever taking part in them.” Mats inquired.

“Oh, a children’s dream of shiny armors and gentle knights ended for me a long time ago. My father called these men clowns, a shame to the warriors protecting their people and their king. I can’t say that I have ever held a jousting lance in my arms. And I haven’t partaken in the fencing tournaments, either. I would like to surprise my opponents when I meet them in a battle.” Robert explained.

“We haven’t had a war for decades now.” Mats said. “Your sword will get rusty in its sheath before you will have to draw it to protect our country.”

“I hope you are right, My Prince, but grim news have found their way to the court.”

“I am not your prince.” Mats corrected him. He was used to it. King Jürgen’s loyal men, who saw further than him being a bastard and noticed the good qualities in him have always considered him a prince and treated him as such.

“You might easily become.” Robert whispered. “And it won’t please everyone. Your position will be weak, no matter what His Grace hopes for. And you have to be ready for it, Mats. The kingdom needs you, but you haven’t yet realized what it really means.”

“It’s such a wonderful day, Sir, let’s not ruin it with gloomy thoughts.” Mats tried to not get affected by the knight’s words that painted such a sinister image, but it was impossible. The menace was now tangible and it sent a cold shiver down Mats’ spine. He had no idea what exactly Robert had meant, but he felt that he was right. Surely, the king wouldn’t get his way that easily. There were too many men in the country and behind the borders hungry for power.

“What do you say to a bet, then?” Robert suggested.

“Do you want to bet how much Marco had spent on bribes?” Mats snickered.

“No. I have the feeling that his champion won’t win today.” Robert said dryly.

“That’s starting to sound interesting.” The knight had Mats’ attention. “Do you know something?”

“Even if I did, I must be honorable and not talk about it.” Robert laughed.

“So how much is the call?”

“I’m His Grace’s First Knight, My Prince,” Robert bowed with a mischievous smile. “I can’t get myself into such business. But if I win, you will accept the king’s offer and take my advice seriously.”

“And if I win?” Mats raised his eyebrow.

“I will owe you a favor. A favor that if you use wisely can help you a lot. And I always keep my word.” Robert said.

“It sounds reasonable. Very well, then, Sir, I say that the prince’s champion will win the tournament. Who is your favorite?”

“The Black Knight.” Robert jerked his head in the direction of the rider now taking his place at the end of the field.

No one really knew who he was and he hadn’t revealed his face yet, but if there was anyone more impressive than Kirch, it had to be him. He had won all his duels with ease and with just one charge. He wasn’t tired at all, while Kirch’s last match must have tired him. But, both sat in their saddles gracefully and waited for the tournament’s master to give the signal for the first charge. Everyone was silent. This match was the most exciting the kingdom had seen in the last years and it was almost a shame that these two didn’t meet in the final.

“And now, old and young, girl and boy, it is time for the Mysterious Black Knight and Our Prince’s champion to meet and battle for a place in the final. Let the duel begin!” The master cried out and the knights started off immediately.

A cloud of dust lifted all over the field as they charged at each other. Mats watched the Black Knight closely. He didn’t give a sign of fatigue and just before the two met, he quickly put his lance in his left hand, throwing his shield to the ground. It was a move Mats had never seen and it must have caught Kirch by surprise, as well. The Black Knight had to be a fool to throw away his only defense, but he must have been sure that he wouldn’t need it, trusting his attack to do the work.

Another loud crash cut through the buzz of the ground and only one rider stayed on his horse. Kirch fell to the ground, but his leg got stuck in the stirrup and it made his horse turn to the right, straight towards the crowd. Everyone jumped to his feet on the stand and the men standing near the incident started to run, just to get away from the heavy charger.

Except for two young men. They must have been too caught up in enjoying the other one’s company and neither of them heard the sound of the horse’s gallop. The wooden railing stopped the scared animal, but the thick billet gave way to the massive power and it broke, a big chunk flying through the air and hitting one of the young man in the back of his head. A shrill cry drowned everyone’s gasp of horror.

“Erik!” The other young man cried out and Mats realized that it was Julian, Benni’s servant and the limp body lying in the dust was his own servant’s.

Julian knelt down next to his love and grabbed his head in his hands, putting it gently in his lap, mumbling soothing words, trying to make Erik come back to his senses. The crowd watched the scene unfolding in front of them motionless, with a bizarre fascination for the misfortune of someone else. Mats could only see a taller man with blonde hair pushing through the bystanders, and a shorter and stumpy brunet in tow. It took Mats a few seconds to realize that it was Marco and Mario.

“Stand back! He won’t get any air if you are so close!” The prince yelled at the crowd and everyone took an unwilling step backwards. Marco lay his hand on Erik’s forehead and forced his eyelids open, inspecting his lifeless eyes. Then, he bent over and put his ear just next to the young servant’s nose. “He’s breathing!” He said. “Quickly, a coach! He needs to be taken care of!” He shouted.

Mats watched the scene incredulously and he caught a glimpse of the king’s face. He looked as bewildered as Mats was. The Marco they knew would have never done such a thing and Mats’ hopes to avoid becoming the heir seemed brighter all of a sudden.


	9. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gathered that the best cure for a writing slump is writing and your support was so overwhelming under the latest chapter that I had a great motivation to update as soon as possible, so here I am. Please, feel free to share your thoughts about the chapter or the story, I will be flattered to read your comments. :-) A huge thank you for all of you sticking with this story. :-)

Marco started to slap Erik’s face gently, hoping that it would be enough. He hadn’t seen how exactly the wood hat hit the young brunet’s head, but he had heard Julian’s desperate cry and he had rushed to the scene immediately. He had cursed silently when he saw the younger one pulling Erik into his lap. Hadn’t Julian learned anything about first aid? It took him a second to realize that it was exactly the case.

 _This_ Julian didn’t know anything about the possible complications of such an injury on the human body, that Erik might have suffered a serious neck or head trauma, and probably didn’t have the slightest idea that such a thing as first aid even existed. Luckily for them, Erik’s neck looked alright, as far as Marco could tell. The wood must have hit him higher up his nape and it simply knocked him unconscious. But Marco was no expert and understood the risks.

He was aware of the incredulous looks sent towards him by the people standing near, but he couldn’t care less about the fact that his actions didn’t fit into their image of their prince. He saw his teammate in Erik and his heart was pounding hard as he feared for the brunet’s life and soundness.

“Julian!” Mario addressed the young servant. The dark-haired man looked back at him bewildered; he most probably wanted to figure out how come the brunet knew his name. “There must be some doctors here!”

Marco wasn’t disappointed in his friend. Mario was quick to think, a treat the blond had always admired in the young midfielder. Mario didn’t dwell in self-pity, he never moaned about their bad situation or misfortune, he was always looking for the way out and his quick thinking might save Erik’s life.

“Y-yes, they tend to the knights.” Julian stammered.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Mario snapped.

“B-but Erik… My Lord” Julian gaped at him. He hesitated a bit before adding what he had thought to be Mario’s proper title. To him, it had to be the only feasible explanation for Mario knowing him.

“I am not your lord, and you can help Erik the most if you go and fetch a doctor!”

Marco had never heard Mario be so authoritative and determined, but this special situation called for special solutions. Julian stood up, faltering, and he nearly tripped over his own two feet as he started off towards the doctors’ tents. The circle around them got tighter again and Marco could feel himself suffocating in the middle of this mass of curious bystanders.

“Stay away!” He yelled again and everyone jumped back in surprise.

They were afraid of him, Marco realized horrified. It wasn’t fear of what he had said, though. It was as if they didn’t recognize him as their prince and had no idea what to expect from him in the next second. But Marco could use this to his own advantage. He looked around, in search of some guards who would surely come rushing to protect their prince once they recognized him. Indeed, there were four armored man marching towards them, crossing the jousting field. Marco’s eyes moved on their own accord and he looked past them, at the king’s stand.

King Jürgen was on his feet and so was everyone around him. They stared at him with their jaws dropped. _A nice little picture you have drawn about yourself, Prince Marco_ , he mumbled before he turned back to Erik. The brunet looked completely healthy, as if he was only sleeping and that was exactly what scared Marco. Maybe the brunet had fallen into a coma, and he saw no way to treat it in this medieval world.

“Come on, Erik, stay with me!” He encouraged the boy, but it was pointless.

Erik didn’t hear him and a bitter taste appeared in Marco’s mouth. He thought of the many times he had teased the young defender. On a few occasions, he had gone as far as humiliating him and now he felt bad about every single time. He knew that the frail body wasn’t that Erik’s, but they looked exactly the same and Marco couldn’t make this differentiation. Not now.

The guards finally arrived and pushed the crowd a few more steps back. Marco jerked his head up to thank them and he caught a glimpse of Mats approaching. Robert had also disappeared from the stand, and Marco hoped that he had rushed away to get a coach so they could take Erik to the castle as soon as possible. Every second counted, and seemingly, only Mario and he understood it.

“Erik!” Mats knelt down beside the lying body.

“How do you know him?” Mario’s question slipped out of his mouth before he could think twice about it.

“He’s my servant! As if you didn’t know!” Mats rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with him?” He asked pleadingly, looking at Marco. Obviously, he expected some comforting words from the blond. It was obvious that he cared about Erik a lot.

“I don’t know. He is unconscious, but hopefully, he will get back to his senses soon.” Marco shrugged. He felt so powerless and it was almost too much to bear. He had only as much knowledge to be able to recognize the problem, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Come on, Erik, wake up!” Mats grabbed his servant by the shoulders and shook him rather forcefully, before Marco could stop him. “I don’t care if you haven’t found Marco, I’m not mad at you, just wake up!”

“Why should he have found me?” Marco frowned.

“To tell you to get into your tent and hear out a few people to save your bloody throne, you idiot!” Mats hissed. “But of course, you were too incompetent to do it!”

He spoke clearly out of anger and so, Marco let his comments get past his ears. Instead, he looked around in search for Julian. He saw the boy running back with a doctor behind him. It was the national team’s physio, Marco realized and he calmed down for a moment. But then he remembered that this doctor might not be as educated in the various forms of injuries.

“He’s past help.” He stated after a quick inspection.

“He isn’t!” Marco protested. “He just received a knock to his head. I’ve seen him endure worse during matches and training.”

“What matches?” Mats frowned.

“Never mind.” Marco corrected himself. “We have to get him into a bed as quickly as possible.”

“He’s awake!” Julian suddenly cried out. Marco looked down at Erik and saw his eyelids shaking a little bit.

“He’s leaving this world.” The doctor stated grimly. “He must be seeing the Lord’s angels.”

“No, he isn’t!” Marco silenced him. “His injury isn’t that bad. Where the fuck is that coach?” He asked, although he wasn’t sure if anyone had gone to fetch it.

“Jule…” Erik whispered. His voice was weak and he still wasn’t conscious, but even that little sign filled Marco’s heart with relief and joy.

“I’m right here, Erik!” Julian bent down and squeezed Erik’s hand.

Marco watched the reaction carefully, but there was nothing indicating that the brunet had heard his _love_? Was it possible that in this universe these two were together? Everything suggested that. Marco rolled his eyes. As if every crazy fantasy about footballers became real all of a sudden: Mario and he, Erik and Julian. It must have meant that Mats and… Benni? Mats had mentioned something like that when Marco had arrived at the castle, but he had been too pre-occupied to understand it back then.

He was brought out of his musings by the sound of wheels turning on the uneven ground and galloping horses. The coach was finally there and it was Robert sitting next to the coachman. The knight jumped down on the ground as soon as they stopped and opened the door.

“Okay, we have to be very careful now and move Erik as little as possible.” Marco started to give out his instructions. “Mario, you will lift him right under his armpits, Julian, you will hold his head still, okay? And be sure that his head is always the lowest. We need to get his blood flow freely. Understood?”

“Y-yes, My Prince. Thank you.” Julian stammered, gratitude sparkling in his eyes.

“Mats, you are the tallest, you will hold his legs and hold them high enough, alright? I will stabilize his back. Sir Robert,” _Sir Robert?_ What was he talking about? “put the cushions down on the floor, we need a flat surface to lay him there. Now on three. One– two– three!”

 

* * *

 

“How is your servant doing?” The king asked of Mats. They were sitting in the royal quarters and enjoying a late dinner.

Mats had stayed by Erik as long as it was possible. They had taken the injured boy into his room. It was far from having the comfort a prince would deserve, but was still much better than Erik’s little chamber and Julian couldn’t stop thanking Mats for taking care of his boyfriend. No one could have moved the other servant from his love’s side and Mats was musing about sending a messenger to the Höwedes Lordship to let Benni know about what had happened and that he shouldn’t expect Julian back until Erik’s state would become better. He didn’t mind having Julian around, but he was sure that others, with Kehl at the front would point out that the boy had other duties to fulfill.

“His name is Erik.” Mats said with a harsh tone. Surely, the king could have shown more interest in the well-being of one of his subjects.

“When you will be crowned, you will realize that there are too many servants in this castle to remember their names. I doubt that Sebastian knows all of them.” Jürgen explained. He didn’t look moved by the events in the afternoon at all. He had eaten with great appetite and now was having dessert in the form of fresh grapes.

“He still hadn’t waken up, but Marco says that it won’t last too long. Erik is already answering Julian’s calls.”

“Are you telling me that Lord Höwedes’s representative is still in the castle? Shouldn’t he have left to take the complaints of their men to the Lord?” The king frowned.

“You know very well that Lord Höwedes has other things to worry about. His life, for example.” Mats mocked him.

He was being peevish, but he didn’t care. His servant was severely injured and he still had to sit here, chatting with the king, while Marco, the real prince was left doing whatever he pleased, although he hadn’t looked like he wanted to leave Erik, either. Mats wished he could be there with them, as well.

“Times change and life will have to go on.” Jürgen said. Nothing could bring him out of his temper and Mats knew it. He was a monarch and he stayed in his role all the time. It was amazing, how he could put away all his human feelings when he had to rule the land. Mats was sure that he would never be able to do it, and as for Marco… until today he hadn’t thought that the blond had any human feelings.

“Exactly.” Mats nodded. “Times change and we have to think about how these changes affect our decisions. Why haven’t you mentioned Marco so far?”

“What is there to talk about?” The king shrugged, but Mats saw that he had found his sore spot. Marco was a topic he didn’t want to discuss after today, because the prince had showed something that threatened his plan.

“You saw what he did.” Mats said. “He probably saved Erik’s life and that without thinking. He didn’t even care that he got his clothes dirty and in his case, it is a remarkable improvement.”

“I’m sure that the washerwomen will take good care of them.” Jürgen snorted.

“You just don’t want to admit that he has changed. He might not have been in his tent and hadn’t admitted any complainers, but his friends had waited for him to no avail, too. He is different and maybe you don’t want to accept that there might be more to your son than meets the eye, because it would ruin your perfect plan to snub him.” Mats was playing with fire. Worse than that. He was playing with King Jürgen, but he had always been acknowledged in the court for this bravery to disagree with the king.

“Or he is just too caught up with young Götze. He is just playing a game. He wants to show me that he is a good prince and he hopes that I will let him stay together with that stable boy because of that. He should know better than that.” The king snorted and gulped down the rest of his wine.

“He is succeeding.” Mats said and Jürgen looked back at him taken aback. “Have you seen how the folk looked at him? It wasn’t horror out of fear. It was admiration for what he had done.”

“You have been reading too many novels lately.” The king’s cynicism surprised Mats. “You believe in a prince charming, while that prince should be you.”

“It shouldn’t.” Mats said firmly, and if looks could kill, he would have fallen down from his chair dead right away. “I won’t become your heir. I will help Marco to rule the land if he asks me to, but I won’t take away from him what is his by right.”

The king opened his eyes to express his frustration and pique for being betrayed in a single rush of angry words, but then, the door was flung open and Sir Lewandowski stormed into the room. He was a bit out of breath, something that Mats had never seen. The knight must have ran a long way and as quick as his legs had taken him.

“Are you mad, First Knight?!” The king shouted at him. “I am having a dinner and I had given the straightforward order for everyone not to disturb me!”

“I beg for your forgiveness, Your Grace, but a pigeon had just arrived. A black one.” He added dramatically and Mats’ heart sank.

A black pigeon meant death. The knight handed the king a piece of parchment. The king broke the seal and smoothed out the message. He read it with an impassive face, but by the time he finished it, he looked sad and old.

“Lord Höwedes had died.” He said and for a minute, deep silence ruled over the room.

“I’m going there!” Mats sprang up, determined. “Benedikt needs me right now.” He added in a tone that told the king and his first advisor not to object. He had already decided and no one could talk him out of his plan.

“I will get a horse for you.” Robert volunteered immediately, already on his way out of the chamber.

“Take Draxler with you. Each servant will be needed in the castle.” Jürgen said in a dry voice. The death of his lifelong friend had weakened him. “Express my deepest condolences to the new lord. I will send a coach for the deceased’s body tomorrow. The funeral will be here in the capital, so that everyone can say farewell to the kingdom’s loyal servant. After that, Lord Höwedes can bury him where he pleases.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mats nodded and rushed out of the chamber, his steps echoing in the cold corridor.


	10. Where Do We Stand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit slower chapter with a lot of talking, but hopefully it won't get boring too much. I hope that you will enjoy it, but even if you don't, please, share your thoughts with me. I not only appreciate your feedback, but I also can learn from it, and write even better stories for you. :-)

Erik was still asleep, but his breathing got ragged over time and while he seemed troubled by his dreams, the fact that he was dreaming assured Marco that he hadn’t fallen into a coma. Hopefully, he would wake up in an hour or two with nothing but the huge lump on the back of his head. Marco had put a cold cloth under the brunet’s nape to minimize the swelling, but it was a hopeless undertaking. The wood had hit Erik hard and that swell was the least that could have happened to him.

Julian stayed by his love’s side and thanked Marco for his help countless times. In fact, he had gone so far, that, for a moment, Marco had mused about knocking Julian unconscious, just to get his much needed few minute long silence. So much had happened in the last two days, and Marco had to think about them and talk through them with Mario.

It had been Mats who had come to the blond’s help. The news he had brought hadn’t been pleasant, and Julian hadn’t wanted to leave Erik’s side, but after he had learned that his lord had lost his father and Marco had reassured him that would take care of the brunet, he had left with Mats.

“I think I should go, as well.” Mario stood up unwillingly a couple of minutes later.

“What? Where?” Marco jerked his head up.

“The stable.” Mario shrugged. “Philipp doesn’t exactly know that I went to the fair, although I’m pretty sure he has figured it out by now and has some punishment ready for me.” There was sadness in his voice and Marco tasted something sour in the back of his mouth.

“No, stay.” He said. “Please.” He added, sheepishly. “We have to find a way to get out of here. I still can’t wrap my head around this magic thing.”

“I’m as clueless as you are.” Mario admitted. “Sorry, Marco, but for now, I guess we have to play along with our characters here and find a way to keep our heads on our necks.”

“So that means that I have to engage to Katy so Kloppo won’t have you executed?” Marco asked.

“Yes, exactly.” Mario snapped. He wasn’t pleased with the prospect of losing his head, but then, who would have been?

“And what about what that witch said?”

“Come on, Marco! That _witch_ says what she likes, and people pay for it. You can’t take her seriously!” Mario said, bewildered. Apparently, he hadn’t believed a word of what that woman had told them.

“But for a moment, let’s consider that she was right.” Marco stuck to the subject. “I mean, she couldn’t have made it up on the spur of the moment.”

“Yeah. Tell you what,” Mario started. “If this is true, and she has sent us here, once we get back to our world, I’m going to find her and strangle her.” The brunet fumed.

“But according to her, we won’t get back unless we learn our lessons. What those could be?” Marco mused out loud. He was sure that this question had been bugging his friend, too, Mario only wanted to look mature, someone who doesn’t waste his time on childish things like spells and magic.

“I have no idea.” The shorter one shrugged.

“I may have one.” Marco admitted and it finally got Mario’s attention. He sent the blond an encouraging look as he sat back on the bed, careful not to sit on Erik. “When Erik got hit, I felt awful about how I have treated him – I mean, in our world. Maybe we are here to realize what we have been doing wrong in our world? There are a lot of similarities between the two realities, only here, the situation is more clear-cut. Do you remember our talk on the yacht? You compared me to a prince and I compared you to a horse. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Yeah, next time you compare me to something, couldn’t it be more pleasant?” Mario groused.

“You are missing my point.” Marco let the comment get past his ears. “You talked about how everyone looked up at me and expected leadership from me, but honestly, I don’t want to lead the team. I don’t feel like I’m mature enough for that. And here, what happens? I have to lead a country.” Mario hummed, and it told Marco that he was actually starting to agree with him on this theory. “And you? I told you how it looked like Bayern wanted to exploit you and make you a hard-working player, someone who pulls the club’s coach, even though you aren’t strong enough for it now. Here, you left the castle, just like you left Dortmund, you work in the stables and you have to endure a bossy Fips.”

“But what about us?” Mario objected. “We haven’t been lovers in real life, no matter what some fans might think.” He pointed out, and Marco couldn’t answer anything to it.

 _I wished we were_. It would have been that simple to admit the tender feelings he had once felt for his teammate. Whom was he kidding? He still felt them, even if they weren’t as prevailing as they had been, once. That one sentence could have deliberated him, but he was too coward to utter it.

“So what is your plan?” Mario asked.

“I don’t have a plan. But, if we are here to learn a lesson, maybe we should be wary, and I think you should start with saying no to Philipp.”

“It’s easy for you. He hasn’t hit you with a horsewhip.” Mario objected.

“I guess you should stay in the castle, then.” Marco suggested.

“And get my head cut off? No, thank you.” Mario refused the plan very eagerly. “Maybe what I need to learn is to accept the expectations and live up to them. Just like you.”

“Well, that’s the other thing… This has been on my mind since we rushed over to Erik.” Marco took a deep breath. “I called Robert Sir Lewandowski instinctively. It wasn’t me, Mario! I would never call him like that, not even in this world and not even if he is a knight.”

“What do you think happened?” Mario frowned.

“The fortune-teller lady told that part of the Marco and Mario of this world still live in us. What if they want to return? What if they want to take over our bodies?”

 

* * *

 

A heavy silence ruled over the room while Mario thought about Marco’s theory. The blond was afraid to look at his friend, instead, he put his hand on Erik’s forehead to check if his temperature was normal. There was no sign of a fever and it would have calmed Marco down, if his nervousness had been caused by Erik’s state. No, right now, he was more troubled by his own situation. If his suspicion was right, they didn’t have much time to come up with a plan to find an escape route from this world. Supposing that one existed, that is.

“If you are right, how much time do we have?” Mario asked finally. His voice was hoarse, and Marco gathered that he had equally dark thoughts.

“I don’t know.” Marco admitted. “It can be weeks, or days. But do you think that there might be something to it?” He glanced at the short brunet, but averted his eyes immediately.

“There might be. At least, it makes sense. You can’t ride in our world, but you had no problem with it yesterday, nor today. You looked very prince-like when we met at the fair, and you said that you called Robert Sir without wanting to. That’s evidence enough for me.”

“What about you? Have you noticed similar changes?”

“Not really.” Mario shrugged. “But then, I haven’t spent much time in the stable since we ended up here. But if you are right, we have to think of something very quickly.”

“Do you have anything particular on your mind?” Marco had recognized the positive ringing to Mario’s voice. This time, he didn’t sound so hopeless, and it told the blond that he had a plan of a sort.

“We will have to ask a lot of questions. We must get an image of our counterparts from here: What they did? What kind of people they were? What others thought of them? What expectations they didn’t meet? Things like that.” Mario said.

“Got it.” Marco nodded.

“And we need to find a way to meet regularly.” Mario continued.

“I guess, I could ask for a horse every day and go on a short ride. Apparently, that’s what the other Marco and Mario did before we came here.”

“No, it won’t be good.” Mario shook his head. “That Mario has upset Fips and Kloppo, too. They would find another stable boy for you.”

“So what will we do, then?” Marco looked around, clueless.

“Let’s see…” Mario mused aloud. “If we could somehow convince Fips to let Felix go with you, and someone from the castle would ask for me…”

“Marcel!” Marco cried out, without thinking. “He will do it for me! And then, we could meet somewhere, outside the city. Mario, you are a genius!”

“You should tell Marcel everything, Marco.” Mario said. “I’ve already told our story to Felix. Even if he doesn’t believe me, he is tactful enough to keep his opinion to himself. Marcel and you are great friends, maybe he will accept your explanation.”

“Okay.” Marco agreed.

“And if it’s not too much to ask for…” Mario added, sheepishly. “Could you put in some good words for me at Kloppo? I would like to be sure that I don’t have to fear for my life. At least, not more than you have to.”

“I’ll do it, don’t worry.” Marco promised.

The atmosphere in the chamber had changed somehow. Now, Marco sensed another kind of tension. It wasn’t because of the hopelessness, but instead, it was tension caused by some awkwardness between them. Marco didn’t understand it. They had been close friends, and he had thought that they would stick together and get through a trouble like this with ease. And now, he had the feeling that Mario was holding back something from him. Not that it was only a one-way thing. He hadn’t mentioned the strange feeling he had had in his guts when the fortune-teller told them about that lesson. What if he had to acknowledge his feelings for Mario to get out of here? He couldn’t bear the thought. He would surely ridicule himself and distant Mario from himself. And a world where Mario would keep a few steps distance from him wasn’t worth returning to.

“Thanks.” Mario nodded. “But I really should go now. Philipp must be furious and I have stayed here already for too long.”

“You are completely right about that!” Fips stormed into the room, with a cane in his hand. A guard came rushing after him, and tried to stop him, but a stern look from the short man made him reconsider his goal. Mario slipped closer to Marco on the bed, as if he was trying to find a shelter there. Marco gulped. He was a prince, and at a higher position than Fips. Surely, he could do something to protect his friend.

“Lahm!” It was the first time he had called Fips by his last name. “Mario was staying here because I have asked him to.”

“I bet you did.” Philipp snorted. This wasn’t going the way Marco had planned.

“Watch your tongue, stable master, or you could find yourself scrubbing horseshit very soon.” Once again, it wasn’t Marco’s voice. Mario sensed it, and he shot a worried glance in his direction. But, at least it took Fips aback and he stopped abruptly, three steps from them. “I needed an assistant to take care of Erik. So go back to your stable and wait until Mario’s services won’t be needed in the castle.”

“Your father will hear about it.” Philipp snarled and he pointed his cane at Marco.

“I will make sure that he also hears about you threatening me.” Marco hit back without thinking. It was Prince Marco, and not the footballer. It was the strangest feeling, Marco had ever felt. As if his body was still his, but he was only trapped in it, and he had to watch as someone else controlled it. It only lasted for a few more moments, before Fips’ body relaxed and he spun around and left as quickly as he had come.

“Marco!” Mario gasped. Marco didn’t know when he had sprung up and started off towards the stable master, but now, he turned around to face his friend. Mario backed away a few centimeters.

“Mario, what’s wrong?” Marco croaked out. He was feeling control over his body again.

“You were frightening.” Mario mouthed, his voice not stronger than a whisper.

“It was frightening to me, too, but it wasn’t me, Sunny.” Marco said and he collapsed on the edge of the bed. He buried his face in his hands and he started to cry. His back was shaken by heavy sobs as he finally let all the fear he had felt emerge.

“Sh, it’s fine.” Mario came to his help. He put his warm hand on Marco’s shoulder blade and started to rub his back. Marco leaned against him and pushed his head into the crook of Mario’s neck.

“I want to go home.” He whined. He must have sounded like a pathetic child, but it was the least of his concerns. This trip was getting worse with every passing second. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep it together. It seemed that Prince Marco was a stronger character, than Mario the stable boy and he wanted to get back to his role as soon as possible. Unluckily, from the two footballers visiting this world, Marco was the weaker and he dreaded the possibility that he could lose himself and– do what? Die? Or something even worse?

“I know.” Mario whispered. “I want to go home, too. And we will find a way, I promise. I will bring you back, Marco. Just please, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”

Marco wanted to pull back and look at Mario, because he didn’t believe his ears. Surely, this couldn’t have been _his_ Mario talking to him like that. Maybe, the Mario of this world had found a way to speak up, too. Mario had never shown such tender feelings to him. It had felt like he had been talking to his love, not to his friend, and it baffled Marco. But, the brunet was holding him so firmly that he couldn’t move his head. He drew soothing circles on his nape and he patted Marco’s back until the blond finally relaxed.

The strange moment came to an abrupt end when they heard the rustling of the bed sheets. They both jerked their heads towards Erik, still holding each other. The brunet sat up, his face soaked with sweat. He didn’t look like he had been hit at all.

“Julian!” He screamed.

“Sh, Erik, it’s fine.” Marco freed himself from Mario’s embrace and rushed over to the servant. “Julian had to leave, but you are safe and will be fine in a few days.”

“No!” Erik shook his head so quickly that Marco feared that he would injure himself again. “Julian is in danger! And so is Prince Mats! Please, you must send some soldiers after them!”


	11. The Black Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a fight scene, so if you don't want to read about it, you can skip it, the main happenings of this chapter will be wrapped up in the next update. But, I would gladly read your opinion about it, it was the first time I wrote such a scene and I'm not sure if it is any good. I guess this chapter raises more questions again, but at least it doesn't end with a direct cliffhanger.
> 
> Another thing I want to share with you is that I'm feeling more comfortable about this story now. I wouldn't have thought that I could get back into it so easily, and I have to thank you for it, your support was and is wonderful. I now have a question to you: should I stick to this pace of updates (two chapters per week), or should I slow down to one update per week, so that you have the time to keep up with the story? I know that sometimes you just don't have the time to read new chapters and I wouldn't want you to fall behind. :-) Whatever you think, please share it with me. :-)

The dark night covered them as they raced towards the Höwedes castle. They barely spoke, they just dug their heels into their horses’ flanks, spurring them to go faster. Mats’ thoughts travelled faster, though. In his mind, he was already by Benni’s side, he held him in his arms and offered him his shoulder to cry on. He stroke his love’s soft blonde strands and murmured soothing words into his ears. A quick glance at Julian convinced him that the servant was somewhere else in his thoughts, too.

“Don’t worry, Julian, Marco will take care of Erik. He couldn’t be in a better place. He is safe in the royal castle and by the time we get back for the funeral, he will be as healthy as ever.” He reassured the young man, who looked back at him as if he was in a daze.

“I… I’m not worried about Erik, Your Highness.” He said. His pale face shone under the moon’s silver light. The road was exceptionally dark and Mats could only trust his horse to not stumble, because he couldn’t see the ground in front of them.

“Then what is the problem?” He asked. This wasn’t the right time to correct Julian about his addressing.

“My lord, Your Highness.” Julian answered.

“Lord Höwedes has lived a glorious life and his time has come.” Mats recited the usual consoling the words the church’s men gave the grieving ones. He knew very well that they meant nothing and rang hollow to anyone who had just lost someone close to his heart. He had experienced it after his mother’s death. Then, these same words had sounded mocking. After all, the queen had cheated on the king and had brought to the world a bastard, disgracing the royal family.

“No, I meant Lord Benedikt.” Julian shook his head. It was the first time that Mats realized that the young servant was truly sad and not simply grieving or worried. “He will have to take over his father’s role now. I don’t doubt his ability, but he will have to wed soon.”

Mats’ heart sank and he felt cold all of a sudden. He had known what Lord Höwedes’s death would mean for the two of them, it had been no other than Benni explaining it to him. And still, despite the certainty of what was in front of them, Julian’s words were like a dagger into his heart. He steeled himself, straightened his back and took a deep breath. He needed to be a strong man right now, the king’s advisor; for his own sake. For Benni’s.

“Your Lord is a handsome man, Julian. The ladies will line up in front of his chambers to contest for his affection.” He said. It was meant reassuringly, but he couldn’t tell whom he was trying to convince. Maybe it was the both of them.

“I know.” Erik said dryly. Their horses’ movement shook them in their saddles and it distorted their voices. “But, he won’t be happy. Not as happy as he would be by your side, Your Highness.”

Mats felt like the world stopped turning around him. He felt frozen in one place, but his horse was still racing with him towards their destination. It took him a few moments to gather enough strength to turn towards Julian. The servant shot his eyes down in his shame, as he realized that he had said something he hadn’t been supposed to say. Mats shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew about them; he had talked to Erik about Benni and him, there was no reason why Benni couldn’t have done the same with his servant. What troubled Mats was the fact that Julian spoke about it openly. He had told Erik about the talk he had overheard, and Mats was afraid that he could have blurted out more secrets to more people. Such an information could have been fatal if it got into the wrong ears.

“Forgive me, Your Highness!” Julian finally croaked out. “I was impudent and shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Mats nodded, without disagreeing to what Julian had said. After all, he thought the same way: neither Benni nor he could be truly happy without each other. He felt it in his heart, there was no point in denying it. “You will stay silent about it, Julian, do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness!” Julian hastened to say.

“Faster!” Mats cried out.

Their horses already seemed to be at the end of their power, but they managed to speed up, now close to flying. The trees on the side of the road glided past them, and soon, the Höwedes castle came into sight. It was sitting enthroned on a steep hill. It was small, but very strong, and hard to besiege. Mats knew all its corridors and secret rooms and stairs. The castle was built to be the nightmare of any attacking army. The woods ended a few miles from it in every direction, and there was no other hill within eyesight. It made it impossible for soldiers to creep up unnoticed to the castle. Its thick walls could resist to any siege engines, supposing that anyone could get them close enough to them – the hill was too steep even for some horses to climb it.

A village was built at the bottom of the hill, and the road led through it, making a slight turn. Mats ordered Julian to turn his horse towards the castle instead. He wanted to get there as soon as possible, and they would arrive a few minutes earlier if they cut through the meadows. This decision might have saved their lives.

Just as they left the road, Mats heard a swooshing sound he knew so well. He wouldn’t have heard it over their horses’ clank-clank.

“Down!” He yelled, already bending down, keeping his head close to his horse. He didn’t have the time to check if Julian understood him.

The next moment, an arrow flew above him, just where his head had been half a second ago. It happened so quickly, but Mats had been taught how to fight. He glanced up and saw a short shadow disappear in the distance. It was an arrow from a crossbow, which meant that they had some time to compose themselves. It took a long time to reload a crossbow, and whoever had shot it, he had to be a lone attacker; they would have noticed a group of bandits.

By the time Mats sat up in his saddle again, Julian had already turned his horse around and was facing their attacker with a drawn sword. Erik and he weren’t only servants, they were also a guard of their lords. Mats followed his example, leading his horse next to the boy’s. Only then he had the opportunity to measure their attacker.

He didn’t see much. There were no shadows on this plain, but the moon had hidden behind a cloud. His suspicion was right, it was a lone rider, with a crossbow in his hand. It was useless now, and when he realized it, he thrust it to the ground, drawing his sword. The blade seemed to soak up whatever light it could find and it glowed. Without it, Mats would have had a hard time following the rider’s movements.

He wore black armor and his horse was covered with a blank caparison. The head and the neck of his horse were protected with an armor similar to his. The animal moved gracefully and without a sound. It was obvious that it had been bred to fight and behave exactly how its owner needed it to behave.

“Rush to the castle and tell them to send us soldiers.” Mats ordered Julian.

“Your Highness–”

“Do as I’ve told you!” Mats cried out and Julian turned his horse around and galloped away, his horse’s shoes ploughing the ground and throwing chunks of grass into the air.

Mats focused on their attacker again. He walked his horse towards him, but Mats knew that he could start a charge any time. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He pushed his legs against the body of his horse, to get more stable. He needed some time. Something told him that he couldn’t defeat this ranger. His only chance was staying alive until Julian would return with more soldiers.

“Who are you?” He demanded, but there came no answer.

Instead, the mysterious man gave out a silent order to his horse and started moving towards Mats. The horse ran faster with each step and Mats readied himself for the first charge. He could only hope that there would be another one.

He drew out his sword and grabbed the reins of his horse with his left hand. He didn’t dare to blink. He feared that he would a miss a sign that would give away his attacker’s plan.

There came no signal. The rider got closer and Mats could hear his armor rattling. His sword was huge and at least as thick as the sword the royal executioner used. _A sword of justice_ , Mats thought. There weren’t many of them and they all bore a special inscription on the blade. It all meant one thing: this attacker was on a mission and he wouldn’t stop until he succeeded.

Mats pushed his legs even firmer against his horse. It was then that something struck him odd. The lone attacker wasn’t holding the reins of his horse, and he held his sword with the one further away from Mats. Mats’ intuition told him that it was his weaker hand and that he would switch hands right before they met. It was a familiar move and he suddenly realized who the mysterious assassin was.

The Black Knight.

No one had known him at the tournament. But if he had been there, why hadn’t he attacked Mats then? It wasn’t the time to muse about it. He had only one or two seconds before they would be face to face and as of yet, he had no idea how to defend against the Black Knight’s probable trick. In the end, he did the only thing that came to his mind: he ordered his horse to move forward. He wanted to hit the knight’s sword when he was putting it into his other hand.

He didn’t succeed. The assassin read him well and stopped his attack with ease. Mats’ blade glided down the other man’s sword and the raven-haired had barely enough strength to keep it in his hand. They had been fighting maybe for a split second, but it had already exhausted him. His opponent was strong; much stronger than the men he had fought in the castle to train. And he didn’t give Mats time to rest. Just when they rode past each other, the Black Knight turned his horse around and started to charge him again. Of course, Mats’ stallion chose that moment to disobey him and the next contact took him unprepared.

The assassin’s sword was pointed at his flanks, right under Mats’ ribs, just where his armor was the weakest. It was his horse’s stamping that saved his life. He was falling back into the saddle after he had been thrown into the air, and so, the tip of the blade hit him higher than intended. The armor stopped the impact, but it was still strong enough to knock him out.

He fell to the ground with a big thump and at that moment, he knew that he was a dead man. Strangely enough, the realization filled him with calmness. All sounds died away. He perceived the world around him from a distance; as if his mind and soul were already leaving his body. The knight noticed his daze and he spun around in his saddle, swinging his sword to finish him off. Once again, Mats’ horse saved him. It kicked out and his attacker had to jerk his arm away so that the horse wouldn’t break it.

It was only a momentary help. Mats was standing on his feet, while his opponent was still on a horse, there was nothing that could save him. He could stand exactly one charge. He didn’t even know why, but he raised his sword again and readied to defend himself. Not that it mattered. A horse wouldn’t normally stamp on a man, but these horses had been taught to follow their rider’s orders in the bloodiest battle. Even if that order was meant to end a human being’s life, just like the one the Black Knight now uttered.

“Gallop!” He hissed.

It was at that point that Mats’ strength and bravery had run out. He closed his eyes and listened to the steps of the horse. Only, that sound seemed to get further away. He opened his eye and indeed, the Black Knight was fleeing as quickly as he could. Mats couldn’t understand it, until he heard the sounds of approaching riders, too.

Before he could turn around, two of them rode past him, chasing the assassin, who already had a good lead over them and there was no way that they could catch up to him. Three other riders told their horses to stop when they reached Mats. One of them was familiar.

“Your Highness!” Julian cried out as he jumped down to the ground and ran over to Mats. He grabbed Mats by the waist, as if he was afraid that the taller one would collapse otherwise – not without a reason. “Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Yes, I am.” Mats stammered. His voice was weak and it broke and he would never forgive himself that second of weakness. It wasn’t the shock from being attacked that overcame him; it was the shock of having survived. He had come to terms with his own death, and now, as life returned into his body, he could barely make out any of the figures walking up to him.

“Lord Advisor, we are glad to find you alive.” One of them nodded. “Sir Huntelaar, at your service. I will see to it that you will be escorted back to the royal castle immediately.”

“No!” Mats yelled. It was such a sudden change in his tone that all of them were taken aback. “You take me to your lord! Your castle is nearer and I need to see Lord Höwedes!” He just managed to stop his tongue saying the truth, and add the two words ‘to see’. The guards didn’t seem to notice any of it. They nodded and climbed back into their saddles. A bigger group of soldiers arrived and they formed a protective shield around Mats as they started off towards the Höwedes Castle.


	12. In Loving Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the drama and action, this update is a bit slower and goes deeper into the characters' feelings and their hardships. I hope that you will like it, the plot will move on in the next chapter. There are a lot of questions and they will be addressed very shortly, I promise. Thank you for your support and letting me know that you love this story, please, keep it up. :-)

Mats calmed down by the time they reached the big gate. It was opened as they approached and the guards led Mats up the hill through the narrow paths. Julian retold the captain of the guards the events in greater detail, but Mats was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay attention. The servant shot the raven-haired a few careful looks, trying to make him describe his fight with the Black Knight, but Mats remained silent. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, except for Benni. He wanted to go with him into his chamber, lock the doors behind them and cuddle and hold each other through the night. He was finally grateful to be still alive; he wanted to share the joy of it with his love.

The new lord waited them in the door of the palas. Mats’ heart clenched upon seeing him; he was pale and weak. His father’s death must have shaken him, and news about the attack on Mats had already reached him. Mats climbed out of his horse’s saddle and reminded himself a countless times that he had to stick to his role. He was the king’s advisor until they would be alone. Until then, he had to be distant and formal to Benni, no matter if he liked it or not. There were curious glances all around them and they couldn’t trust anyone.

“My Lord, I bring the message of His Royal Highness. Upon hearing about your father’s death, King Jürgen felt the utmost sadness and he wishes to reassure you that his thoughts are with you and the people of your lordship.”

“His Highness’s words are of great solace in this dark hour, thank you, Lord Advisor.” Benni nodded, not forgetting about the proper reply and the proper title. “I hope that you will stay in our home for the night. There’s a quarter waiting for you. You arrived not long after the news about my father’s death were sent out all throughout the country, you must be tired after your long ride and the incident that has happened.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” Mats said, and he followed Benni inside. Julian was walking next to them, and when they were out of earshot of the guards, Benni looked at him.

“Julian, you can retire, I won’t need you for the rest of the night. Try and get as much sleep as you can. The next days will be tiring, and I will need your help then.”

“Of course, My Lord. But– if it is not much to ask for, I would like to see the Lord’s body and pay my tribute.” The servant stammered sheepishly.

Benni smiled at him reassuringly and the three of them walked into the great hall. There lay the body of Lord Höwedes, clothed in his most magnificent clothes. Death had smoothened out his features, his wrinkles were almost invisible and his face was so relaxed, that for a moment, Mats thought that he was only having a very deep sleep.

By his side knelt his widow. She stood up when she heard the approaching footsteps and her eyes scanned over Mats in a stern manner. She had never tried to hide her disapproval of the royal bastard. Mats didn’t quite know how he had earned her hate, but if he had to guess, he would choose his affection for her only son.

“I’m glad you have finally remembered that your place is by your lord’s side, Julian.” She rasped. Julian walked over to the body with his tail between his legs, bowed in honor and hurried away before he could get another load of rebuke.

Lady Höwedes was a very strong woman, and had always supported her husband. She hadn’t backed down when Lord Höwedes had had to leave for other duties, taking the responsibility of managing their lordship into her own hands. Wicked tongues said she was the real ruler in this part of the kingdom, and seeing her cold eyes, Mats could imagine, why. “Welcome!” She greeted him.

It was just one word, but she had managed to put all her dislike into it. Her accentuation left no doubts: she said that ‘welcome’ as if she wanted to add a title to it, but Mats bore no title that she considered worthy to mention. She spoke with denouncement.

“My Lady,” Mats bowed “allow me to render His Highness’s sympathy in this grave hour.”

“Render it if you like,” she mocked him. “Jürgen still could have left his castle and say farewell to his old friend. Apparently, he is busy with something else.”

“His Highness was busy with the fair–”

“Yes, yes, the damn fair.” She waved her hand.

“Mother, I think you should retire.” Benni said. She shot him an offended look, but she didn’t object. It was strange, but now, his son was her lord and she had to do as he pleased.

“I am so relieved to see you safe and sound!” Benni cried out and embraced Mats before the echoes of the door being shut after Lady Höwedes could fade away. Mats couldn’t move a single muscle, but he didn’t have to. He leaned into the hug.

“I’m so so sorry about your father, Benni.” He whispered.

“Forget about him!” Benni said. “The important thing is that you are here and safe. What happened in the woods? Who attacked you?”

“I can’t– I don’t– I don’t want to talk about it.” Mats croaked out, struggling with his emotions.

“It’s fine, Matsi.” Benni soothed him, his hand rubbing his back. “Luckily, the pigeon arrived on time and we could send out a group of scouts to save you.”

“What pigeon?” Mats frowned. He had thought that it had been Julian saving him.

“It arrived a few minutes ago, from the capital. It carried a message from the First Knight. We found it particularly odd, but it spoke about a possible danger to you, and I could take no risks. I am so glad I haven’t.”

Mats didn’t understand any of it, and Benni didn’t have the explanation, either. Instead, they kept standing there, leaning against each other, their arms wrapped around the other one. They breathed evenly and in the same rhythm. After a few seconds, Benni snuggled closer to Mats, burying his face in the crook of his neck, listening to his heartbeat.

“Don’t leave me tonight.” He whispered, on the verge of crying. “Please, I can’t do this alone.”

“Shh, I’m here.” Mats said to him. “But, it wouldn’t be wise to spend the night together. You have prepared a chamber for me, the servants–”

“The servants can think what they want!” Benni snapped. “I am their lord and no one will believe them, whatever they might say!” He stepped away from Mats and paced up and down with a heavy breathing. No matter what he had said, Mats knew that he agreed with him. “Maybe if you never go into that chamber, no one will suspect anything. I could ask you to keep vigil with me. The hall is sealed, only I can enter it or whoever I let in.”

“Benni, I don’t think this is the appropriate time…” Mats objected, but his love cut him short.

“I’m not fucking asking you to sleep with me!” He yelled. His voice echoed in the empty and cold hall. “I only want you to hold me and be my support. Can’t you do that for me?” He begged in such a pleading voice that Mats couldn’t say no.

“Just not here.” He said, nodding towards the dead body. Lord Höwedes had never disliked him, but he had radiated respect and Mats couldn’t bear the thought of cuddling with Benni right next to his now empty vessel.

“Of course.” Benni said. “In the tower, then.” He started off immediately. There was a blanket on one of the chairs, probably left there to protect him from the coldness of the night. He grabbed it and rushed over to one of the many hidden doors in the wall.

The tower had always been their secret refuge. Everyone thought that it was just an ornamental addition to the castle, but just like everything in this massive fortress, it served a special purpose. Only one way led up and from the flat top of it, one could see for miles in every direction with nothing to block the observer’s eyes. Benni had found the hidden door when he had been five, and he had shown it to Mats. They had used in many times; whenever they had needed to hide from the world trying to force its own expectations on them. Just like now.

They took three steps at a time and they reached the top out of breath. The cool air hit them like a stone wall and Mats started to shiver. Benni spread out the blanket and Mats lay down on it. The blond joined him after a second and he wrapped his arms around Mats’ body, putting his head on the raven-haired’s chest. Mats still wore his light armor, but his warmth got through it and offered the perfect place for Benni at the time.

Everything was bathed in the moon’s and the stars’ silvery light and there was a deep silence, that one could hear one’s own thoughts. For long minutes, or maybe they were hours, they lay there, saying nothing, just being grateful for their closeness. Mats pulled Benni even closer to him, leaving on hand on the back of his love, while he put his other one under his own head, to serve as a cushion on the hard stone.

“I can’t do this, Mats.” Benni said. His voice was so weak, and he seemed to be so small in this vastness of the universe they felt around them in this secluded place. “All my life, I have learned everything I would need to be a good lord for my people and now, when I am standing on the threshold, I feel like I don’t know half of what I should know. I am lost and powerless. My father did everything right, he never made a mistake, and I can’t ever get close to his greatness.”

“You don’t have to be like him.” Mats started to rub his back with soothing movements. The cold night air seemed to get away from them. They were in their own protective shell, the rest of the world far away from them. It was a familiar feeling and it filled Mats with security. “He has taught you to be able to tell good from bad. Don’t compare yourself to him.” Mats understood Benni’s worries. Lord Höwedes had been a strong personality and he had had a lot of expectations of everyone and twice as that of Benni. “He is gone.” The bold truth in this statement loomed over them for a long moment.

“You know, there is a tribe living in the Big Southern Wastelands.” Benni said wistfully. “They say that the souls of the deceased rise and join the stars above us and they will look over us, guide us and protect us from up above.” It was clear that he wanted to believe it right now.

“If your father is somewhere up there now,” Mats pointed at the clear sky, “he is surely proud of the man he sees. You are ready for your new role, Benni. Your people will admire you and revere you.”

“I have always envied you.” Benni interrupted him. “When we were growing up, I wanted to be like you. I understood that you were a bastard and you couldn’t ask for the things I could call my own by right. But, you were getting them. The king forgave your mother for her sin and he treated you like his own child. You were brought up like a prince, you found a position in the court, and yet, you didn’t have to face any expectations. You were free. You had a chance to choose your own path, your own life.”

“Where is that life now?” Mats sighed. “I will be forced into a role I have never asked for. I will be forced to choose the people and give up on everything I have ever valued. Everything I have ever _desired_.” He added, meaning Benni. Another long silence fell over them, and this one lasted longer.

“My father knew about us.” Benni said. He lifted himself a little bit and he looked straight into Mats’ eyes. “All these years, he has. And he has never said anything. Not until tonight.” His voice broke again. Mats didn’t interrupt him. He wanted to give him time to share with him what he planned to share in his own pace, but he couldn’t control his urging look. “He said that he had wanted it to stop. The king and he had talked about us many times, trying to find a way to get us separated. But, they couldn’t come up with anything. And my father– he said that he only understood it on his deathbed. He said there had been a strong force standing in the way of their struggles and intrigues.” He took a deep breath. “ _Love_.”

“Benni…” Mats mouthed.

“He warned me, Mats.” Benni croaked out. “He told me not to trust anyone. He told me that everyone would try to weaken my position after his death. ‘The vultures will come’, he said. But, he also told me something else. He told me not to give up on things that truly mattered. He advised me to stick to the few I could trust, the ones who loved me and would stand by my side. I wanted to believe that these were the meaningless words of a dying man. I would have liked them to be a nonsense. But, no matter how hard I tried, in the end, I had to admit: they weren’t.”

“Love…” Mats tried again.

“Why couldn’t he say something else?” Benni snapped. He was angry, and Mats wasn’t sure, who he was angry at. “He could have told me whom to marry! He could have told me to forget about you, to start a family, beget children, heirs! His words were everything I have ever dreamed of, and yet, when he uttered them, I wished he hadn’t! Why can’t it be much simpler? Why couldn’t he ask me to do what is expected of me, what’s _right_? It would be so easier! I would know what to do. But, the old man had to leave me behind in doubts!”

“Why are you in doubts?” Mats managed to ask. His heart was beating so fast that it was ready to rip through his ribs. It hurt him to see his love being torn by the weight of this decision. And he was directly involved. He tasted sour vile in his throat and he felt like retching as Benni turned towards him, their eyes locked as they shared their feelings for each other without any words.

“Don’t you know it?” Benni whispered. “I love you.”


	13. The Game of the Mighty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit harder to write and it might be worse because of it, but I hope that you will enjoy it nonetheless. Please, share your thoughts with me, I promise that there will be more tension and drama in the next update. :-)

The dawn found them on the tower, cuddling, and their bodies pressed together. Sometime in the night, the group of scouts returned from searching for the Black Knight. Mats would have liked to know what they had found out, but Benni wouldn’t let him leave. They didn’t leave even when a bigger group of guards arrived from the capital, along with a coach to take Lord Höwedes’s body into Bay Town. Life went on around them, but they didn’t let it affect them and they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.

They woke up as the first rays of sunshine appeared and started to warm the ground, trying to dissipate the fog. Mats was the first one to awake. Benni still lay on his chest, his mouth slightly open. He looked stronger than the evening before, but he still was far from the strong and determined lord he was supposed to be. Marco ruffled his hair gently and then placed a peck on the top of his head.

“Good morning!” He mumbled when Benni moved and cast his dreamy eyes at him. The blond started to perceive the world around him, and a wide smile spread across his face when he saw his love.

“Good morning, Matsi!” He said dreamily and snuggled closer to the raven-haired. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“I haven’t done anything apart from lying here.” Mats said, smiling.

“That’s more than enough.” Benni told honestly, and let out a wistful sigh. “But, I’m afraid that our undisturbed time is over. Soon, there will be the first ring of the bells, and I have to open the hall’s door then.”

They didn’t say anything. The real world had caught up with them and it was time to fulfill their duties. They stood up unwillingly, Benni folded the blanket and they started off down the narrow steps towards the great hall. The lord’s body lay there untouched; the only difference Mats saw was that now he seemed to smile, but maybe, it was his imagination playing tricks with him.

Benni didn’t look at his father’s body. He walked over to the huge door and opened it. The creaking sound hurt Mats’ ears, and the hall seemed to become darker, despite the early sunshine pouring in through the widening gap. The guards turned towards Benni and greeted him with a synchronous nod.

“My Lord, the steward wanted to see you as soon as possible.” He said.

“Go and fetch him, then. I wouldn’t want to make him wait. And while you are on your way, send a word into the kitchen. The Lord Advisor and I are hungry after the vigil.” Benni gave out his orders. He sounded like a natural leader, and Mats was taken aback by his stature.

“Yes, My Lord!” The guard nodded, but he shot a disapproving look at Mats beforehand. He seemed to be offended by Benni’s orders, as if he considered himself to be better than fetching breakfast. Benni caught a glimpse of his look and answered it with eyes that sent electric jolts. It worked. The guard hurried away.

The steward, Sir Huntelaar arrived a few minutes later. He was wearing his shiniest armor and wore his ceremonial sword. He was supposed to accompany his late lord’s body to the capital and stand watch over it until the funeral. He ignored Mats as he stormed over to his lord. Benni was sitting in the lord’s chair, his face buried in his hands.

“My Lord! I wanted to talk to you in the night, but there was no answer to my banging the door.” He said, somewhat reprimanding. Benni looked up at him, unbelievingly.

“I was mourning my father.” Benni told him, not accepting the knight’s questioning of his authority. “Do you have anything against it?”

“No, My Lord!” Sir Huntelaar corrected his tone. “I just thought that maybe you wanted to know about the result of our search for the um, Lord Advisor’s assassin.”

“You were wrong.” Benni said firmly. “If you had found him, I wouldn’t have wanted to question him right away, and if you hadn’t found him, and I suspect you did not, I couldn’t have done anything about it.”

“Of course, My Lord!” The knight said with venom in his voice. To him, Benni must have been a young brat, and he didn’t like to be educated by him. “You are right, our search wasn’t successful, but there is something else. The First Knight arrived from the capital to accompany Lord Höwedes’s remains into Bay Town. But, he wants to see the Lord Advisor, first.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Send him in!” Benni gave out his orders. The knight nodded and rushed away, keeping his nose high up in the air, and Mats had a hard time holding back his chuckle by the ridiculous look Sir Huntelaar actually was like this.

“My god, how much he despises me!” Benni sighed when the knight was out of earshot. “I’m so sorry about his behavior. You can see that my mother hasn’t been sluggard in planting the seeds of hate for you amongst the guards. She has done a good job, I must say. But, don’t worry, Matsi, I will make sure that it will end very soon. You are an honorable man, and you will be treated this way in my castle, whether the likes of Huntelaar like it or not.”

“Your generous offer make me indebted to you, Lord Höwedes”, Mats answered formally, because Robert entered the hall, along with a few other guards and clergymen from the capital. They walked over to the corpse and started to ready it for the road.

“Lord Höwedes, please accept my deepest condolences for your loss.” Robert cried out in his loudest voice, accompanied by a theatrical bow. Benni waved his show away and stood up.

“Spare me the details, First Knight!” He said as he walked down to his father’s body and said his final goodbye to it. “Do what you must. I will retire now and get ready for the departure. I don’t want the king to wait for us. Lord Advisor, I suppose you know my castle enough to find a secluded chamber for your talk with Sir Lewandowski.” With that, he left the hall through the doors his mother had used the night before. Robert and Mats bent their heads as he walked past them.

“I’m glad to see you alive, Mats.” Robert said now, forgetting about the formalities. He seemed to be relaxed now.

“I am grateful to be alive, as well.” Mats smiled. “This way.” He started off towards the great entrance of the hall and led Robert through the corridors, until he found the chamber he was looking for. It was his old chamber. He had spent half of his childhood in the Höwedes family’s castle, especially when his presence hadn’t been wanted in the royal court. The chamber was now empty.

“What happened out there, Mats?” Robert asked.

“I don’t know. We were riding as fast as we could. No one could have followed us without being noticed. It was as if he was waiting for us!” Mats explained.

“Did you see his face? Do you know who it could have been?” Robert inquired.

“The Black Knight.” Mats said. “It was him, I have no doubts about it.” Robert’s only answer was a hum that told more than Mats needed to know. “Did you know about it?” Mats snapped.

“I wasn’t sure about it, but this Black Knight’s appearance was peculiar.” Robert said.

“You must know more!” Mats demanded. “You told me that you had the feeling that he would win the tournament! Don’t tell me it was a lucky hunch!”

“It wasn’t, Mats.” Robert admitted. “But I’m doing you a big favor by not telling you everything I know. My duty is to protect the king and the members of the royal family. I can do it the best way by keeping you in the dark. I am sorry”, he added, without meaning it.

Mats should have felt offended, but he didn’t. There was something in Robert’s voice that convinced him that the knight was driven by the best will. They stood in silence, their minds rushing, musing about the new information they received and how it fell into the puzzle they already had partly solved.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand.” Mats finally spoke up. “Benedikt told me that he had received a letter from you in the middle of the night, telling about the danger to me. Do you want to tell me that you expected such an assault on me?”

“No, Mats, you have to believe me!” Robert refused the accusation. “If I had known about it, I would have accompanied you myself. As I’ve said on the tournament, I don’t want to see you dead. You should thank Erik, strange as it might seem. He woke up not long after you left. In his dream, he saw someone attacking you, and he wouldn’t calm down until we sent a message to Lord Höwedes, telling him about what might happen. Of course, I don’t have to tell you that Erik was more worried about young Draxler’s life.” He added mischievously, and if finally lightened Mats’ mood.

“How is Erik doing?” He asked. He was glad that his servant was awake and seemingly as much in love with Julian as ever.

“Great, as far as I know.” Robert answered. “The prince took good care of him, and thanks to him, he will recover very soon.”

“Yes, the prince…” Mats mused out loud. “Don’t you think that there is something odd about Marco?”

“It is not my place to be the judge of that, Mats.” Robert nodded politely. “But, I wouldn’t want to be His Highness right now. This little display of care from the prince made many people question their opinion on him.”

“They change their minds very easily.” Mats groused.

“They want to believe in a prince charming.” Robert said. “That’s why they would accept you as the heir and their prince without any problems. But, they don’t really care who that prince is, as long as he exists. Would you want to take that dream away from them?”

“Not at all.” Mats shook his head. “I can only be grateful if Marco changes and takes his role seriously from now on. I have no stomach for being a king.”

“I understand it, especially after this assault. If you were proclaimed the heir, it surely wouldn’t be the last one. That’s why you must be very careful about choosing your friends, Mats.” He said with a very suggestive tone.

“Do you want to say that Benni… he had nothing to do with it, Robert! He sent soldiers to protect me!” Mats shouted.

“I’m only saying that you shouldn’t give your enemies another reason to hate you and maybe convince others that you shouldn’t have such an important position next to the king.” Robert elaborated calmly. “The rumor is only rumor for now, but a small puff of air, and the ember can turn into a blazing fire that will burn everything you consider dear. I am not threatening you, just warning you. Be careful.” He whispered and he left the room, leaving behind a very perplexed Mats.

 

* * *

 

It was almost noon by the time they set off for the capital. Sir Huntelaar led the march, carrying a huge black flag. Behind him, Benni rode with Julian, the young servant holding high the banner of the Höwedes family. Then came the coach with the lord’s body in it, and another coach with Lady Höwedes. Robert and Mats rode right after her, much to the raven-haired advisor’s displeasure. The old woman often shot him a scornful look. The First Knight didn’t seem to notice it and he engaged in a friendly chat with her, only encouraging her mocking comments. The company was closed by less important noblemen and subjects of the lord. They were protected by guards from both sides; they didn’t want to risk an attack similar to that in the night.

Their journey was undisturbed though, and they arrived in the capital when the sun was about to set. They rode to the huge cathedral, where the cardinal welcomed them and took over the duties to overlook the preparation of the deceased for the funeral. Mats, Robert, Benni and the coach with the lady started off to the castle.

Kehl was waiting for them, along with the king and the prince. In the distance, a still weak Erik stood, trying hard to catch a glimpse of his love. Mats smiled under his nose by his servant’s eagerness. They would meet only rarely with Julian from now on, so he didn’t want to ruin their moment.

“Welcome, Lord Höwedes!” Jürgen greeted them. Benni jumped down from his horse and knelt down to kiss the king’s hand. His mother was more graceful. She waited until a few servants ran to the coach with wooden steps and she climbed out very carefully and pompously. She didn’t look shaken by her husband’s death. If anything, she seemed to be stronger than ever.

“Your Grace!” She said simply.

She didn’t stop in front of the king on her way inside. Kehl watched her with a horrified look, but Jürgen didn’t mind her. He looked at Mats and there was a kind of warmth in his eyes. _He had been worried about me_ , Mats realized.

“I am glad that all of you have arrived here safe and sound. It seems that our country isn’t as safe as we thought it to be. There are questions that scream for answers, and I am afraid that we can’t wait with them until we say farewell to your father properly, Lord Höwedes.” He started his speech. “The cardinal told me that everything would be ready for the funeral at sunrise tomorrow. Until then, please enjoy my castle’s hospitability.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but I must agree with you. There are matters more important than getting comfortable in your magnificent chambers. I pray that you give us some time to wash the dust of the road off ourselves and after that, we can meet and find the answers to the questions troubling us all.” Benni spoke up. He was very much like his father had been, Mats noticed. He was sure that the blond was more moved by the lord’s death than he let it show, but life went on, and Benni understood it perfectly.

“So be it!” Jürgen said. “Sebastian, please accompany the lord to his quarters, and make sure that Lady Höwedes gets invited to the council room. Her knowledge will surely help us.” He uttered the words that were like a dagger to Mats’ heart, and he hoped that he wouldn’t be needed there. It was a vague hope and he didn’t really believe it.


	14. Backfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't really believe that I have written as many chapters in the last month or so than in the first few months of this story. I have to thank you for your constant support that makes me go on and sit down and write. I am writing this fic for you and I can't tell you what an immense boost it is to me if I see that you enjoy reading it. Please, keep up your support and share your thoughts on this chapter with me. I would like to hear about the things you love and also about what you don't like so much. In this chapter and the next one, there will be more about Marco and Mario again, hopefully you will like it. :-)

“They don’t invite me!” Marco yelled. He was pacing up and down in his chamber, fuming and grumbling.

He wasn’t even sure why he was mad. He would have liked to believe that once again, it was the prince speaking and commanding his body, but he felt very much alive and in control of himself. No, this had nothing to do with another personality living in his mind. He was simply angry at the person the Marco of this fantasy world was. It was stupid that he felt offended by the horrible image everyone around here seemed to have about his counterpart, but he couldn’t bear the thought of someone having a bad opinion on him, and though the prince and he were different people, the resemblance was too much to be ignored.

“Based on what you told me, this is one of the biggest things in recent years, and they don’t invite me! Their prince!” He cried out.

“I suppose His Grace is only trying to protect you, My Prince.” Marcel said calmly.

Marco had let him into what had happened to them. The short man had had a hard time accepting the tale Marco had told him, but in the end, he inclined to believe him. He knew the prince more than anyone and he had had to admit that the change was too sudden and too big for it to be possible to be explained rationally, and if he was going to look for a wild story, this one was as good as any other.

“Sure, he is.” Marco snorted. “There’s no point in lying to me, Marcel. Prince Marco was an obnoxious, spoiled little brat, whom no one loved and he couldn’t be bothered by it!”

“He still _is_ ”, the words slipped out of Marcel’s mouth before he realized what they meant. “I mean, you said that he still is in you, and don’t talk about him like that! You don’t know him! No one really does! There’s more to him than the king sees! If you want to know, he has spent a lot of dreamless nights telling me about what an incapable heir he was and how ashamed he felt. So please, don’t judge him if you don’t know him!”

Marcel’s loyalty amazed Marco, and his mouth remained open. Marcel respected the prince and not because he held a title that required respect. Marcel admired the person the prince was. He didn’t deny his weaknesses, but he saw the positives and he might have been the only one in the kingdom who did so. Even during his short stay, Marco had had the opportunity to make sure that no one in the royal castle considered him suitable enough to discuss with him anything more important than what he would like to eat for dinner.

“I am sorry.” Marco muttered. “I meant no offense. I can only consider what others have told me.” He enjoyed talking to Marcel. Ever since he had told him his story, he reminded him a lot of his real-life friend, who didn’t wrap his opinion into a nice package.

“Yes, and they are blind to what’s going on in front of their eyes.” Marcel growled. “Even if the prince had done something honorable and generous, they wouldn’t have noticed it and would have found something to criticize. Can you imagine how hard it was for the prince to lose his father’s favor?” Marco couldn’t say anything to that. His father had always supported him without question, and Marco often felt like he hadn’t showed enough gratitude for it. “Mats had always been the king’s first choice, and he isn’t even his own blood! But no one ever considered the prince’s point of view and what a bitter pill it had to be for him.”

“Yes, you are right.” Marco said. “Thinking about it, there’s no wonder he turned out to be such a person. It still seems to me though that he has given up too easily. As if he has accepted the public opinion on him and didn’t try to change it. Quite the contrary, he looks like someone who did everything to give foundation for the contempt.”

Marcel hold his glance for a long moment and then he started to smile. “You don’t know this world. I don’t know how things work in your home, but here, it is not so easy to change something that doesn’t please you.”

“I don’t know…” Marco drawled. “They say that it is always easier to take for granted that something is impossible than to admit that you might be too weak to try it.”

“Maybe this switching places can help.” Marco said cheerfully. “If you could plant doubts in the people’s heads about the prince’s nature, he could use it and show the good in him after you leave.”

“I will do my very best.” Marco promised. “But you have to help me, too.” He said. They had talked to Marcel about their idea with Mario of how they could meet. “I need to talk to Mario before my presence would be missed in the castle. I guess this meeting will be long enough and we might still come back before dinner if we leave right now.”

The servant didn’t say a thing, he just nodded and stood up. Marco had changed his clothes after the reception of Benni and his mother. Pompous and amazing they looked like, they were very uncomfortable and he was wearing loose riding clothes now.

They bumped into the first obstacle right in the doorway. As Marcel opened the door for Marco, the guard on duty blocked his way and didn’t look like he was going to move an inch.

“The prince wishes to ride out into the woods.” Marcel announced, but it didn’t affect the guard at all.

“I apologize, My Prince, but I have received the direct order not to let you leave the castle, in the light of the attack on the Lord Advisor.”

“Come on, Tony!” Marco sighed. “Do you want to tell me that I am a prisoner in my own house?”

“I am deeply sorry, My Prince, but the orders were very straightforward.” Toni repeated with unwavering determination. Marco wasn’t going to get his way, he realized. “If you wish to see someone in particular, I can send someone to get them here.”

“Mario!” Marco cried out. “Bring me Mario here! I need to talk to him.”

“Which Mario do you mean, My Prince?” Toni asked and before Marco could answer him, Marcel took over.

“Götze.” He said simply and the guard frowned by the name. He must have gotten specific instructions telling him not to let Mario get close to Marco, too. “You must know that the anniversary of the Götze boys’ father’s death is approaching, and the prince had thought that he might gift the boys a little house somewhere in the city, for the many years of service their father showed for the realm.”

Marco had no idea what the servant was talking about, but it must have impressed the guard, because he nodded and whistled. Soon, a small boy ran to him. Toni told him to go fetch Mario and Felix and then he gently advised the prince to wait for the two guests in his quarters.

“That was nice, thank you!” Marco sighed when the door was closed behind them.

“I am happy to help, My Prince.” Marcel bowed. Marco had tried to convince him not to address him as his prince, but Marcel couldn’t stop the habit that had been implanted in him for long years. “I understand that given certain circumstances, it will be hard for you to meet young Götze, and it would be vital for you to get home.”

“What you said about their father and that house, was it true, or just a lie?” Marco frowned.

“Their father died just last year, and it was his last wish that saved Mario’s life. Lord Jürgen was a knowledgeable man, and a good friend of both our king and King Pep. When King Jürgen had enough of you and Mario’s affair, he wanted to get rid of Mario, but the lord had convinced him to only send him into the stables. King Pep was on the same opinion. Your marriage to Princess Kathy had already been decided, and he had wanted to have a man he trusted in the stables for when his daughter would arrive.”

“Lord Götze? Was he a nobleman?” Marco gaped.

“No, he was the king’s advisor, just like Lord Mats. Their title isn’t theirs by right, it comes from their position and so many noblemen won’t consider them lords. But, they get the title for their accomplishments nonetheless.” Marcel explained. “It is not hereditary though. That’s why they both ended up serving in the king’s stables.”

“What about Fabian?” Marco asked, but Marcel only answered with a clueless look. “In our world, they have a third brother, Fabian. He is the oldest.”

“I don’t know about such brother.” Marcel shrugged. “Please, tell me more about your world. Do I have a counterpart there, too? What does he do?”

“Yes, you are present in our world.” Marco smiled. “And you are my best friend there. You are the nicest person I have ever known and I can always count on you.” He didn’t spare his praises, and the slight blush that crawled on Marcel’s face was his reward.

“So I serve you there, too.” Marcel wrapped it up, but he didn’t look bothered by the thought. Instead, he was pride of it.

“Oh, no!” Marco shook his head. “In our world, or at least in my country, there are no such servants. If there are some people who aid others, they get paid for it. The Marcel in our world is an entrepreneur.” He said, but he soon realized that the servant sitting opposite him had no idea what he was talking about. “He does business.” He elaborated, but to no avail. “Basically, he has some ideas and he creates them. If others like his idea, they will enjoy it, and pay for it. For example, he runs a club, where people come to dance at night and have fun. Or, he also has a firm that makes clothes and sells them. But he is also a great dancer and he could make a living out of it.”

“Dear Lord!” Marcel snapped as he tried to process all that information. “Does he really do whatever pleases him?” He asked sheepishly and Marco started to laugh.

“Yeah, something like that!”

“Well, I am grateful I was born into this world. It doesn’t sound like he knows what to do with his life, and I wouldn’t like to live a life like that.” Marcel gaped, horrified. After all, there were some differences between him and Marco’s friend. His Marcel would never take orders from someone else.

Mario and Felix arrived half an hour later and the moment they entered the chamber, Marco wished they hadn’t hurried so much. They brought with them the scent of the stables and Marco’s nose started to protest against it very heavily. The younger one of the two brothers rushed to him and knelt down right in front of him. Marco hoped that he wouldn’t kiss his hand. Mario didn’t look that dirty, only ashamed, if anything, as if he didn’t want Marco to see him like that. The blond felt anger rise in his throat. He didn’t want his friend to live in such circumstances. He didn’t want anyone to live in such circumstances, and if it was in his power to make a change while he was here, he would surely do it.

“Marcel, please prepare a bath for Felix.” Marco said. “He looks like he could use one.”

“Yes, My Prince.” The servant nodded obediently.

“Oh, My Prince! That is not necessary!” Felix objected, though.

“I insist.” Marco smiled at him. “Are you hungry, too? Maybe the kitchen maids could prepare a little snack for you. You must be hungry after working all day. The arrival of the guests from the Höwedes castle must have shaken things up in the stables.”

“You wouldn’t believe, how much.” Mario groused, and Felix shot him a cutting glance.

“I will see to a snack, too, My Prince.” Marcel said and rushed away.

“Please, sit down.” Marco pointed at the couch. Mario slumped down on one of them immediately, but Felix seemed to be hesitant.

“My clothes are dirty, My Prince…” He drawled.

“Not for long.” Marco answered immediately. “Marcel was kind to remind me of your father’s death anniversary.” Felix’ lips curled down, but Mario didn’t look touched at all. Quite the contrary, he looked angry. “Now, I realize that the king hadn’t treated you well after his death, and I want to make up for it a little bit. You will get a small house somewhere in the city as repayment for your father’s long service to the realm.” He tried hard to remember the words Marcel had used. Felix’s jaw dropped and he knelt down on the floor again, fighting with his tears.

“My Prince! This is– I don’t know what to say! Mario, do you hear this?” He turned to his older brother, forgetting for a moment that the brunet wasn’t exactly his brother and wouldn’t be able to value this offer.

“That’s truly great.” He growled mockingly. “Now I only want to know why Marco has chosen to have us brought here to show us what a generous prince he is, and just generally that he is in a much higher position than we are.” He mused out loud.

It was a bold accusation and Marco thought that his ears were deceiving him. What was wrong with Mario? He had just come up with a way to make their meetings easier. Okay, it had been Marcel proposing it, but it still was a great idea. If he understood it correctly, such an opportunity would mean that the Götze boys could leave the stables and find a new profession for themselves. Then why wasn’t Mario happy?

“Pardon me?” He asked unbelievingly.

“I think you are sitting on a high horse, _prince_.” Mario hissed. “I am not your doormat, you won’t rub your feet into me!”

“What?” Marco and Felix snapped in unison.

“Mario, you apologize to the prince!” The young boy cried out. “He had given us the most generous offer!”

“He isn’t your prince, Felix, have you forgotten?” Mario rolled his eyes. “He is my friend, although right now, I’m not so sure about it anymore.”

“I don’t get you, Mario.” Marco stammered. “I’m only trying to help…” He was on the verge of crying, but the brunet stayed as cold as he had been.

“Then maybe you could spend your precious time thinking about a way out of this shithole!” He was shaking with anger, and this time, Marco had no doubts about who was speaking out of his body.

It wasn’t Mario, the stable boy. It was Mario, his friend.


	15. Accusations and Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to add to this chapter. I must be a horrible person for what happens here or at least what is described. I want to put out a HUGE TRIGGER WARNING for violence, but it is really important for the plot, I hope you will forgive me.

The air was boiling all around them and the tension sizzled between them. They sprang up and stared at each other without moving a single muscle of their faces. Marco couldn’t remember a time when they were this angry at one another. Felix must have realized it, because he sat on the coach with his legs pulled under him and his eyes locked on a small smudge on the floor. Mario’s nostrils were wide as he breathed heavily. Marco still didn’t understand him. What was going on here? What was this with his accusations? He most certainly didn’t deserve any of them. He was thinking about making their lives easy, he wasn’t to blame that they still hadn’t found a way out of this world.

The door to his quarters was open and Marcel entered with half a dozen maids, each carrying two buckets of hot water. He didn’t have to look at them twice to see that something was wrong. He became the obedient and loyal servant once again.

“The bath will be ready in a minute, Felix.” He said and turned to the maids. “You can leave the buckets in the bathroom, I will prepare the bath myself.” They giggled and blushed and ran into the bathroom, leaving the chamber only a minute later. “Come, Felix!” He waved at the boy and the blond stood up and followed him.

They were left alone. It was everything and nothing Marco had wished for. They had a chance to discuss this matter undisturbed, but he wasn’t sure anymore if it could be discussed with a cold head. He wasn’t even sure what they were supposed to discuss.

“Mario, I–” He croaked out, but his voice broke when Mario lifted his hand firmly.

“Don’t. I am not interested in your lame excuses.” He hissed, and his tone finally helped Marco to find his tongue again.

“My lame excuses?” He snapped and put his hands on his hips. “Tell me, what should I apologize for? What should I explain? That I am trying to help us and you? That I don’t want you to work in the stables all day long?”

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Generosity, I had no idea that you had took on exactly my Marco’s body from all the possibilities.” He mocked him and Marco wanted to slap him right away. He was so angry that he didn’t even notice the expression ‘my Marco’. “I am only surprised you haven’t turned up earlier! Or have you been fighting with that prince living somewhere in you, Marco, huh? I am happy you finally managed to beat him, and luckily, it was still enough time to lecture me a little bit, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Marco cried out. He understood the words Mario was uttering, but together, they didn’t make any sense.

“Oh, don’t pretend that you don’t know about anything!” Mario rolled his eyes. “You could have gotten me out of the stables earlier than this, you just were enjoying your new position too much. Tell me, how many servants indulge you?”

“You are speaking nonsense!” Marco snorted.

“Am I?” Mario hit back. “Because so far, it seems that you are the one speaking nonsense all the time, and nonsense that is comfortable for you. Like this prince living in you thing, that always comes in handy when you say something that you are ashamed of.”

“What? Do you think that I am lying?” Marco blinked.

“Well, I haven’t noticed any stable boy living in me.” Mario scoffed. Marco’s jaw dropped. He wanted to believe that it wasn’t his friend talking to him like this. There was pure hatred in the brunet’s voice. But, there was no doubt about it: this was the Mario he had known for so many years. “I just think that this role flatters you a lot. You have always loved people jumping around you and looking for anything you might miss. Just admit it, Marco, you don’t want to go home. But, I’m telling you something: I will go home, with or without you. I won’t take a lot more of this shit.”

“Mario…” Marco said with trembling lips. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he wouldn’t give Mario the satisfaction to see him cry because of him. He gulped his sadness down. “I really meant the best with this offer.” He was surprised how he could keep his voice calm. “I haven’t told you about it because I didn’t know I could do that. I was on my way to the stables to go riding just like we have agreed, but Toni stopped me and told me I couldn’t go anywhere. Marcel came up with the idea, and I am sure that it will help us to meet more often and freely. You can leave the stables then, and whenever I go out into the city, we can bump into each other. It is that simple. Please, you have to believe me… We must be in this together, otherwise we won’t find the way out.”

He was begging, but he didn’t mind it. He had never valued his friendship with Mario as much as now, on the verge of losing it. If Mario would turn his back on him, it would mean that he was left alone in this alien world with nothing to hold onto. His few talks with Mario had given him the only support and contact with reality. When he talked to Mario, he remembered who he really was and where he belonged, and no matter what the brunet thought, those moments were immense help when he had to decide if he was in control of his own body or the real prince was taking over.

“I am sorry.” Mario mumbled, ashamed of himself. “It is so hard and I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s only that so much changed in so little time, I still can’t believe that we are here and we can do nothing about it.”

“It’s okay, Mario.” Marco took a hesitant step towards his friend. Mario didn’t react in any way and it made Marco more confident. He took step after step and he stopped by the brunet’s side. “I went through the same last night, so I know what it feels like. But we really have to stick together. We aren’t each other’s enemies, there are already enough people wanting to hurt us around here, there’s no point in making more.”

“You are right.” Mario snuffed. “I am truly sorry.”

“But have you really not felt the real stable boy Mario in you?” Marco frowned. If it wasn’t happening to Mario, what was wrong with him? Or was Mario right? Had it been just his excuse to cover how much he enjoyed being in the center of attention?

“I did.” Mario said dryly and Marco’s heart sank a few inches. There was so much sadness in his voice. Something horrible must have happened and Marco felt a tight knot in his chest when he thought about it. “This morning, when I came back from the castle, I started to boast about my staying with you. I mean, it wasn’t me. It sounded my like voice and it were my lips moving, but I wasn’t uttering the words.”

“I see.” Marco nodded. “Was it all that happened?” He wanted to put a comforting hand on Mario’s back, but the brunet pulled away, wincing. “What’s wrong?” Marco whispered, but Mario only shook his head powerlessly and started to cry again. He wasn’t able to tell Marco more and the blond decided to take matters into his own hands. He reached for the hem of Mario’s shirt and he pulled it up with a horrible feeling.

Still, he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

 

* * *

 

Felix let out a long sigh of relief as he sat down in the tub and the warm water enveloped him from all sides. At first, he had been scared of the idea of a bath, not because he wouldn’t have liked to clean himself. But, he was still young, even though boys his age were already becoming squires, and he didn’t feel comfortable around girls. His body reacted to them very well, it wasn’t the problem, what embarrassed him was exactly his reaction. The prince’s servant must have sensed some of his reservations, and Felix uttered a silent thanks for his thoughtfulness.

Marcel was tactful enough to turn around when Felix took off his dirty and stinking clothes and climbed into the wooden tub. He couldn’t remember the last time he had taken a bath. It must have been when their father had been still alive and they lived in the castle. How much had changed in that one year! Since then, he only kept himself clean as much as he could in the cold water from the well next to the stables, or he occasionally dipped himself in the sea.

“Can I ask you something, Felix?” Marcel suddenly asked. He was staring out the window and avoided the blond boy’s eyes. Felix almost jumped in his place. What could the servant of the prince possibly ask him? He didn’t consider himself a particularly clever boy. He knew how to take care of the horses and tend to their wounds, nothing more.

“Yes, um–” He drawled, realizing that he didn’t know how to call the older man.

“Marcel.” The servant filled in for him with a smile. “The prince told me the most unbelievable tale this night.”

“Oh, I suspect that my brother told me the same story.” Felix cut into Marcel’s speech. It was a habit he really should have gotten rid of a long time ago, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Whenever he got engaged in a conversation, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking and he drowned all the others around him.

“I was just thinking about what you think of it.” Marcel admitted. He still hadn’t turned towards Felix. It was strange to have a conversation like this, but at the same time, the boy was grateful for the other one’s carefulness.

“Well, I have to admit that Mario hasn’t been behaving like himself in the last few days…” he started. “But whether what he tells is true or not? I don’t know. It is a hard question. My brain tells me to believe what the wise men say and they had stated clearly that magic doesn’t exist. My heart, on the other hand, told me that Mario didn’t lie to me.”

“Hm.” Marcel mused. “I had the same feeling about the prince.” He nodded. “But please, tell me: don’t you have the feeling that this _new_ Mario is better than the one you knew?” He asked, biting down on his lip.

It was only then that Felix understood his worries. There was word around the city about the prince and his big change for the better. The many rumors must have made Marcel unsure, too, and now he didn’t know anymore who he was supposed to be loyal to: the prince he had known all his life, or the prince who had shown only deeds of love.

“It is hard to tell.” He said. “Mario is my brother, no matter what happens to him. Even if this Mario is from another world, I think that he talked to me first because he shared my opinion and thought that a brotherly bond would be between us. I might not be the wisest man, and I certainly don’t have life figured out, but I can tell you one thing. I don’t think that you should be ashamed of having doubts about this new prince. It might seem to you that he is more suitable than the one you knew. There’s nothing wrong with that. I think what really matters is the love you still feel for the old Marco, the fact that you still stick to him and don’t want to let him down. It would be so great if we didn’t have to put up with the vices of our beloved ones, but they exist and are part of who they are. I think that the real love comes from being able to see past those and see the good even in the midst of the biggest wrong.”

 

* * *

 

“Who did this to you?” Marco yelled. “Was it Fips?” He was out of his mind with anger. The many scars and blue and green bruises on Mario’s otherwise smooth and soft skin made him see red. He wanted to rush out of the chamber and tear out the heart of whoever had done this to his friend.

“No, it wasn’t him!” Mario shook his head.

“Then who was it?” Marco demanded. He was fuming and his appearance must have scared Mario, because he curled up in a ball and wouldn’t look at the blond. Marco realized it and corrected his tone, now speaking more softly. “Mario, you have to tell me. I can’t let this happen to you.”

“I just don’t want you to make anything stupid.” Mario begged. He was barely audible. He looked like he was ashamed of what had happened to him and that he hadn’t been man enough to protect himself. But, Marco was sure that he hadn’t had the chance to do anything about it and stand up for himself. Who knows, maybe someone had tied him down and hit him over and over again for his impudence.

“I won’t, I promise.” Marco answered, smiling. He crouched down next to Mario and pulled him in a careful but tight embrace. “Mario, we can rely only on each other here. I want to help you.” The brunet leaned against his frame and cried his heart out.

“I don’t know who it was. He looked familiar, but I can’t remember where I have seen him. Philipp wasn’t at the stables at the time and he told him off when he came back.” Mario managed to croak out. He couldn’t utter more than three words at a time before another heavy sob shook him.

“I see.” Marco nodded. “But you can’t go back to the stables, and I won’t take no for an answer here. I will send Marcel for a doctor, someone has to tend to your wounds.”

“No, I’m fine–” Mario objected and tried to free himself from Marco’s grip, but the blond only gave him enough space to pull away and look him in the eyes.

“Mario, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I am sorry I couldn’t stop this somehow. If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you leave in the morning. I promise that I will never ever let anything bad happen to you, as long as I can do anything about it. I only want to take care of you, alright?” He pleaded gently and Mario nodded. “Good.”

He stood up and walked over to the bathroom door. “Marcel, please go fetch a doctor.” He asked his servant. “Felix, when you are finished, go and look after your brother. You won’t leave my quarters today, understood?”

The blond boy looked at him baffled, but he nodded his head vehemently. Marco closed the door again and he started off towards the entrance to his chamber.

“Marco, where are you going?” Mario whined.

“I think it is time that I talked to the king seriously.” Marco said firmly, his eyes locked on the door. “And this time, nothing and no one will stop me!”


	16. The Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter explains some things in more detail, and I hope it will help you understand what exactly is going on, even if most of the questions will remain unanswered for now. Please, let me know what you think of it, I'm always happy to read your comments and answer them. :-)

The council room finally hosted a real meeting of many important figures in the kingdom, even if the people sitting in the chairs were all either from the capital or from the Höwedes castle. Jürgen was sure that according to the law, they weren’t even allowed to come here and sit in those chairs that were the rightful places of the eleven lords ruling over the land alongside their king. Now, they were occupied by only one such lord. Benedikt looked tired and shaken by his father’s death, but when the king entered, he straightened his back and stood up to welcome his monarch. Next to him sat Lady Höwedes. She had changed into more elegant clothes and she wasn’t so impressed by his entrance. There were two more men in the chamber, both standing, as if they had some moral problem sitting down. Mats and Robert nodded in unison as the king slumped down in his simple stone chair. Here, he didn’t have more right than his advisors.

“Are we ready to start?” He ran his eyes over the other four. “Perfect! Lord Höwedes, let me welcome you to the council chamber. It is not the first time you are here, but I certainly hope that it won’t be the last time. You are now one of the most powerful man in the country and I count on your help. I hope you will be a loyal servant to the realm like your father was.”

“Thank you, Your Grace! I will do my very best!” Benni nodded and sat down, too.

“If you are done with the boring formalities, maybe we could focus on what is more urging. My bones don’t take the bothers of traveling as well as they did once.” The lady yawned. The king didn’t start speaking. “Should I wrap it up for you, Jürgen? You are in deep, deep trouble. Your country isn’t safe any longer. _Your_ _son_ was attacked next to the road, you have lost your most loyal friend, and it only reminds you of the fact that you might have to leave this world soon. Which is a shame, since you don’t have any suitable heirs.”

“You have always had a touch for the essence of things, Frieda.” His laughter filled the room. “But I’m afraid that these matters can’t be dealt with with such an impassive voice. I deeply regret if we bore you, but we have a country to rule and a folk we are responsible for. First Knight, are there any news about the motives of the attacker?”

“I’m afraid, no, Your Grace!” Robert stepped forward. “A messenger brought the crossbow he used, but the Wise couldn’t tell us, whom it belonged to. It isn’t a common bow, though. It had detailed carvings and its value must be huge. Whoever this attacker was, he must have hoped that he would finish the Lord Advisor off, and clear up after himself. It is only pure luck that it wasn’t so.”

“Mats? Do you know who it was?” The king turned towards the raven-haired.

“The Black Knight.” Mats said firmly. “The one who competed at the tournament. He had a sword of justice.” He added with drama. The weight of his words fell over the chamber and everyone looked at him incredulously. He could read the hope behind their look. They all wished he was lying. He himself wished he was lying. Only the old orders had such swords, and they all vanished in the past, now being no more than legend. Except, one of their swords turned up and was aimed at Mats. If the Black Knight was a member of the secret brotherhoods, Mats would have to fear for his life from now on. They wouldn’t stop, and he knew it.

“Well, at least it narrows down the suspects. And it won’t be much problem to find out who he is. Bring forth the tournament master! He must know about this Black Knight.” The king ordered his knight, but Robert didn’t move.

“I have already talked to Nobby, Your Grace.” He answered politely. “He doesn’t know who this knight is.”

“What?!” Jürgen snapped. “How could he compete, then? Don’t tell me that just anyone can walk in and fight for the king’s prize!”

“I’m afraid, it is so.” Robert said. “Since the prince’s champions prevail in these tournaments, less and less contestants try their luck, and Nobby said they had to accept just anyone who entered.”

“Why am I the last one to know about it?” The king groused. “And why aren’t my orders kept?”

“We won’t get far with this.” Mats spoke up calmly. “And maybe we don’t even have to look that far for information, is that right, First Knight?” He shot Robert a half-accusing, half-questioning glance. Jürgen noticed it and he followed Mats’ example. “You were the one coming to me and telling me that the Black Knight might win the tournament. I think it is time to tell us: did you know that something was being planned?”

“I didn’t know about a plan, Lord Advisor.” Robert hissed. “I have already told you that. I have learned something troubling during the tournament and I instructed the guards to secure the surrounding. I went to protect the king’s and the prince’s life on the stands myself. We would have caught this Black Knight if it wasn’t for the accident.”

“Robert!” The king roared. He wasn’t upset with Robert’s secrecy. He trusted his man and didn’t question his decision to not tell them everything at the moment. “Did you know that Mats’ life was in danger, and you let him ride away on his own?”

“He wasn’t the target of the Black Knight, at least not at the tournament. It was you, Your Grace.” Robert said. They all gasped, expect for the king. He held Robert’s emotionless look. Mats was surprised that the First Knight had admitted everything so boldly, but not as much surprised as he was by the monarch’s reaction.

“I see.” He nodded. “Find this knight, Robert, and all of his accomplices!”

“I don’t know who he is, Your Grace. I don’t know if he is anyone’s assassin or if he is acting on his own accord. I don’t–”

“I don’t care about any of it!” The king yelled. “I think I was clear on what I am expecting of you, wasn’t I? You will find this man and bring him in front of me! Until then, you will make sure that no one gets close to me, to the prince or the Lord Advisor!”

“Of course, Your Grace!” He nodded obediently this time.

“In the meantime, we might be able to come up with some leads.” Jürgen looked around. “Frieda, hasn’t Walter said anything before he died? I would be surprised if he didn’t know if something was in the making.”

“The lord wasn’t in the business of being in contact with secret brotherhoods.” The lady jerked her head up. “Even if he was, your, the prince’s or the Lord Advisor’s safety wasn’t on his mind on his dying bed.”

“He told me something.” Benni spoke up. He was barely audible. He wasn’t used to being listened to. Growing up, his opinion was sometimes heard out, but it only came second after his father’s. “He warned me to be careful and not trust anyone. He said that the kingdom faces a lot of changes and there will be instability and some might use it to try to climb the ladder of power. Maybe he knew about a plot?”

“No, he didn’t.” Lady Frieda shook her head. “Walter was a straightforward man. If he had known about something, he would have told about it to us. He was only warning you from the obvious. Our home _is_ facing a lot of disturbance with what our king is planning.”

“What am I planning that might upset the safety and peace?” Jürgen asked.

“I don’t know what do you think our home is like, but making a bastard the heir? The people I know won’t take it.” She said without faltering. Her words were met with dead silence and Mats stared at his feet. He hadn’t spoken much in the council, but all of a sudden, he wanted to yell at her and tell her off. Only, he couldn’t do it. Even with his position, he had no right to rebuke a lady.

“I won’t breathe life into those rumors.” The king snarled.

“Rumors?” Lady Frieda feigned surprise. “I can quite remember your argument with the queen after the Lord Advisor’s birth.” She sent a cutting glance at Mats. The raven-haired did his best to look untouched, but the corners of his lips curled up in anger.

“Mother!” Benni sprung up. “I won’t accept such a behavior from you. Our families have long been connected. We shouldn’t believe such malicious lies.”

“Oh, trust me, son, I do know about those strong bonds interlacing our families together. I have seen the next bond nourishing under my very eyes.” She looked at Benni mischievously. To her, it was a game. All men around her gasped. “Oh, please. Why deny something we all know about?”

“This isn’t why we are here.” The king bared his teeth.

“Isn’t it? As Benedikt pointed out, the fates of our families are connected. Can I be blamed for worrying about my son’s life? The attack happened in our backyard. Who knows if that Black Knight can’t get into our castle and murder us all?”

“I can send some guards from the capital to guarantee your safety, My Lady!” Robert offered.

“You are very chivalrous, Sir Lewandowski. Maybe too much.” The lady smiled. “I have to decline your kind offer, though. I trust Sir Huntelaar and his men. What I was trying to hint at is that the Black Knight couldn’t have come out of nowhere if he knew where the Lord Advisor would be. On the other hand, he must be someone the people know, otherwise, they would have noticed him and told us about a lone rider hiding in the woods.”

“It makes sense.” Mats admitted after a long moment of consideration. “I was in the Höwedes tent for the fair, and no one mentioned anything about a stranger in the lordship.”

“He could have hidden more easily in the capital.” Lady Frieda suggested.

“We would have noticed him.” Robert said proudly.

“No offense, First Knight, but he entered a tournament without anyone knowing who he was.” She hit back. “I haven’t lost my trust in the royal guards, but times have changed, and the kingdom isn’t as powerful as it used to be. There are threats everywhere and I know that you are not a blind man and you know about them. You must have already known about them for a long time.”

“I think you are getting carried away.” The king interrupted her.

“Oh, you, men!” The lady rolled her eyes. “Your pride makes you so stupid. You can’t admit that you might do something badly and because of that, the problems grow until they are stronger than you ever were. I remember that Walter was just like you. His wisest decision was to let me have a say in the matters of the lordship.” Mats disagreed with her on that, but he didn’t say a thing. “Put aside all your pride and face the situation. What do you see? Assassins cruising in the kingdom without problems. A kingdom, whose lords can’t wait for their king’s death and the instability it will bring. A royal family with its respect hurt and weakened. This hasn’t just happened. It needs to be taken care of, and the sooner we do that, the better.”

This made everyone think. They all knew she was right, although they hated to admit it. Lady Frieda was like this. She always spoke with ease, a certain playfulness hiding on her lips, but the words she spoke were all true and gave away her real understanding of the world around her. Mats had to respect her for that, but the way she ignored him and considered him the source of all trouble frustrated him to no end. At the same time though, he had to admit that without his mother making a mistake – him, namely – the royal family’s position would still be intact and there would be no doubt about who should inherit the throne.

“Given the developments, should we go on with the preparations for the prince’s engagement?” Robert asked. “Maybe King Pep will think that we can’t protect his daughter.”

“No, I won’t stop this engagement. It is important for us, more than anything.” Jürgen shook his head. “Talk to Kehl and tell him that he should spare nothing. I want to show not only Pep that we are strong, but also to my own folk. I’m not dead yet.” He stood up, determined. “If someone wants my head, he will be punished for it. Send as many soldiers as you can to welcome the princess. She should cross our borders in two days. Make sure that she arrives safe and sound. Marco will propose to her and we will have a strong alliance. Also, appoint a personal guard for Marco. I don’t care what he thinks, that guard will follow him everywhere and won’t let anyone get closer to him than an arm’s reach.”

“That’s it!” Mats cried out when a piece of puzzle fell into its place. All shot him a questioning look and he blushed when he realized he got too excited with his realization. “Marco and his personal guard! Don’t you understand it?” He asked, and the clueless expressions he saw on their faces told him that it was so. “What did Kehl say? That Kirch was supposed to win the tournament _and_ stay here as Marco’s personal guard. I remember that it struck us odd when he told us. As if Marco knew about a direct danger to him…”

They looked at him incredulously, but the change of their looks reassured him that they believed him. The king started to smile and the First Knight didn’t have to wait for his next order. He started immediately towards the door to go and find the prince.

He didn’t have to go far. There was a loud altercation behind the door and soon, a guard shouted. The council meetings were closed, and no one was allowed to intrude them, no matter who he was. But, of course, the guards couldn’t do everything just to anyone, and so, the next moment, the door was pushed open, and Prince Marco stormed in. His eyes burnt with a strange passion and he didn’t take them off the king.

“Marco! You come at the best time possible!” Jürgen opened his arms. “We were just about to fetch you. We would like to hear what you have to say about–”

“No.” The blond said firmly. “I _will_ talk, but you won’t decide about what. And you will hear me out, no matter what.” He spat with venom and he started to shake with anger. The king met his stare, and it was the first time that Mats noticed how much Marco resembled his father. Maybe not in appearance, but surely in character.


	17. I'm Not Gonna Take It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, a very important talk between Marco and Klopp. I did my very best to explain clearly which version of Marco I'm talking about in each sentence, I hope I succeeded. If not, please forgive me and warn me, I will try to do better than that in the future, but I didn't want to repeat myself all the time and go into details and lengthy explanations that might bore you. Anyways, please enjoy this update, and let me know what you think of it. :-)

Marco was driven by his anger, and he didn’t understand what exactly he was doing, but based on the strange looks from everyone in the chamber, he gathered that what he was doing was unprecedented. The king looked at him bewildered and in awe, but there also was a hint of anger in his eyes. Marco had questioned his authority, and he didn’t like it at all. Of course, Marco had seen this look from Kloppo many times, but the older man in front of him now wasn’t exactly his coach, and he might not be so understanding with him. Not that it deterred him. What he was doing, he was doing it for Mario, and it helped him keep focused and not back down.

“The council is over.” Jürgen said without taking his eyes off Marco.

Robert nodded immediately and bolted out. Benni was the next to leave, closely followed by Mats. Lady Höwedes stayed for the longest, obviously enjoying the situation. She shot them a final amused glance before stepping over the threshold. A guard stepped in, to control if everything was alright. The king sent him away with a wave of his hand and he backed obediently, closing the huge doors. Their slam as they were shut echoed between the stone walls and the ice-cold silence amplified the sound.

“What has gotten into you, Marco?” Jürgen finally spoke up. He got his face under control again, and he inspected the blond with an unreadable expression. His eyes were still intimidating and Marco had to gulp to stop himself from running back into his quarters with his tail between his legs.

“I came here to fight for what’s right!” He stated boldly, but all he accomplished was a roaring laughter from the king.

“You are a bit late for that, don’t you think? Starting to act like a real prince.” Jürgen shook his head in disbelief.

“As if you have let me do anything!” Marco snorted.

He was in full control of his body and mind, and still, he felt offended by the other man’s words. Somehow, he didn’t feel like Kloppo was making fun of only the prince, but also of the footballer Marco. He had had the feeling that he hadn’t been taken seriously in his real life, as well, the thought just hadn’t formulated in his mind so clearly yet. Mario might have been right with his comparison between Marco’s footballer self and a prince, the promise of a bright future, but the brunet didn’t see that the role of this ‘prince’ was to take the lead role in the line and do as he was told. Marco wasn’t like this. He wanted to be himself and get creative, and sometimes, he felt like all the expectations were suffocating him. No, he wasn’t just fighting for his friend or the prince. He was fighting for himself. He remembered what the fortune-teller lady had said about their quest and the lesson they had to learn. He finally understood what she had meant, and he had a pretty good idea about what he was supposed to learn before he could return to his own reality. But not without Mario. They either left together, or not at all.

“You have never given me a real chance!” He burst out and the king was taken aback. “I come in handy for your plans, but when I suggest something or just would like to do something differently, I’m not that useful anymore! You tell me one thing and then do another! Tell me, is Mats so much better than me? He never questions your decisions, right? Is this why you opted for him?”

“What do you want?” The older man asked. He relaxed his shoulders and they slumped forward. He rubbed his temples, as if he wanted to get done with this conversation as quickly as possible.

“No, I won’t let you dispose of this that easily!” Marco shook his head. “I won’t do you any favors and I don’t want you to do me any favors, either. I want you to give me the chance to make things better myself. I don’t want to come after you every time I need something! I am a prince, after all!” It was weird how easily he fell into his new role. The words came to his mind easily. It felt a lot like he was having this argument with the real Kloppo, his coach, he only had to change some of the words to meet the context here in this world.

“Blurt it out, what happened to your sweet Mario?” The king asked mockingly.

“It’s not about Mario.” Marco hissed. “Well, not entirely. It’s also about his brother. Their father was a loyal servant to you and yet, you treat them as if they were nothing.”

“Just because their father served me well, it doesn’t mean that they deserve my goodwill.” Jürgen put in.

“And neither do they deserve their current treatment! No one deserves it! They are your subjects, no matter what you think of Mario. Shouldn’t you be the one making sure that they have a good life?” Marco asked.

“Have I missed something? Have you become the spokesman for the suffering?” The king still didn’t take him seriously, and it infuriated Marco. “Let’s not fool ourselves. I don’t know what horrible thing happened to Mario, but I bet you wouldn’t care if it were someone else on the receiving end. Once you’ll be a king, you can do–”

“I won’t become a king, isn’t this what you planned?” Marco shouted. He was still speaking his own thoughts and offenses. Only, in real life, he couldn’t understand why Mats was chosen to be the captain for Dortmund over him, when everyone talked about him being a potential club legend. “Or what do you want? Is this just some kind of a test to see how I am faring? If you could get some reaction out of me and make sure if I’m really that inept as you think? What kind of a ruler are you if you don’t trust the prince?”

“And it’s enough!” Klopp roared and stood up. Marco should have expected something similar from him, but he was still startled when the older man straightened his back and loomed over him. “You don’t understand the bigger picture, Marco. You have always failed to see it. I value you high. You are my son, a prince, and I never questioned that. You were born to be king and to lead. You can be a great leader, and I have no doubts about it. But, you can be the best leader when the responsibility of it doesn’t weigh on your shoulders all the time. Being a king isn’t only about wearing a crown and telling everyone to do as you wish. Because sometimes, what you think is the best for the people around you, might not be the best for them.

“You have to accept a morality and laws higher than you. You could never do that, Marco. I’m not telling you this to show you your mistakes and flaws. You managed to use it to your own advantage. I wouldn’t have thought that the people in my court would take so much of your ideas and whims. But, you have a natural authority around you, that’s beyond doubt. I want you to step up and show everyone what a great prince you are. You are my son, I wouldn’t want to snub you unless it is completely necessary.

“I can’t preach one thing and do another, though. I have to accept the rules above me I’ve told you about, and that’s what I’m doing. Mats has the needed seriousness and carefulness. He can take that step behind and look at things from another perspective. You are more like your mother. You are passionate and never think twice, as shown by your outburst today. Mats would never have stormed in on me like this. And I’m not saying that he is any better than you because of that. He is different, and more suitable for the role of a king. Do you understand my decision now?”

Marco was taken aback, not by the honest confession of the older man but by how much it applied to his own situation within the team. Only, it hadn’t occurred to him this clearly. He had never thought about it that way, but it made sense. Kloppo always turned to Mats, the team’s captain when something serious had to be dealt with. Marco was his second choice to make his teammates passionate and lift their spirits. Also, during their disastrous season, no one ever questioned his performances, making Mats the scapegoat. Marco was the victim of the many injuries, an unlucky fellow who still did everything in his power to help his team in need. Could it be that his authority or whatever it was that surrounded him stopped the journalists and the fans criticizing him? Or had he bought their love with his contract extension?

“I do.” Marco nodded. “I don’t agree with it, though. I can learn and get better, but it feels like you have taken your hand off me.” He admitted, on the verge of breaking down. He didn’t perceive the environment around them. In his mind, he was talking to his coach, and nothing else mattered. He felt a huge weight being lifted from his heart.

“It might be so, and I am sorry.” Jürgen stepped next to him and put his hand on his back. “I care about you, Marco. But you are a prince, you can’t be pampered any more. You have to man up. I thought that by separating you from Mario, we could achieve that, but it seems I was too naïve. Nothing can stand between the two of you, right? Not even the distance.”

“I want to take care of him.” Marco said. It was liberating to speak his mind out like that, only, he wouldn’t have thought that he would do that with Kloppo. “You don’t understand him. It’s not only that I love him.” Oh my god, was _he_ still speaking? Or had the prince taken over for a moment? “I also feel responsible for him. He is my best friend, and I can’t bear to see him suffer. And he is suffering at Baye– at the stables.” He corrected himself.

“What do you want me to do?” The king asked with understanding in his voice.

“I want to give Mario and Felix a house in the city. Felix is a clever boy. Maybe, he could learn a craft.” He mused out loud.

“And what about Mario?” Jürgen asked him the more uncomfortable question. Marco took a deep breath. They might have come closer, but this still was an issue they would have a fight over, he was sure about that. “You don’t expect me to let him come back to the court two days before your engagement, do you?”

Marco freaked out and paled. He had forgotten about that engagement completely. How was he supposed to propose to a woman he didn’t feel anything for, and moreover, was Mats’ fiancée in real life? Not that he didn’t think Cathy beautiful. He only couldn’t go beyond the appreciation of the beauty of a woman. He couldn’t force tender feelings into his heart. He didn’t like women and he had known it all his life. He wanted to like them, he had tried so many things to try to make himself fall in love with one, but all those efforts only chased him into a hopeless crush on a teammate– Mario.

“Maybe you didn’t deal with it well to start with…” He started and the king frowned. “You are afraid of the rumors about Mario and me. Do you think that forcing us apart helped these rumors to cease? I think it only gave them ground. What you want to do is show the world that we don’t have anything going on. That we can be close to each other without abandoning our roles. Do you want to convince everyone that I am a normal prince by proposing to Princess Cathy? Fair enough. But imagine what a stronger effect it would have if it happened with Mario being still in the court!”

For a long moment, there was silence between them. Marco didn’t know why he had suggested it. It didn’t really make sense even to him. And how were the real prince and stable boy be together after Mario and he left, if at that time, the prince would be engaged to a princess? Marco didn’t know why, but he felt responsible for them, too, and he thought it was his duty to help them somehow. He couldn’t turn his back on them and just look for the easiest way out of this nightmare. Especially because he had the strong feeling, that their fates were intertwined and they couldn’t escape without doing something not only for themselves, but also for the prince and his love.

“That’s what I was talking about.” King Jürgen eventually smiled at him. “You want something, and you manage to convince others that it will be the best for them. Even if that someone is your father and the king. Well then! You can give the Götze boys the house you want. Send Felix to be an apprentice, and Mario– find for him a position that isn’t too close to you. But I warn you: in two days, you will propose to the princess and seal the alliance between our two countries. You can’t expect to live only the nice aspects of being a prince. You will have to accept the responsibility that goes with this role, as well.”

“Um, yes,” Marco stammered. He didn’t know what to say anymore. He wouldn’t have thought that it could go that well. The image of the relationship between the king and the prince he had been given was much less promising. But then, he wasn’t the prince. Maybe he knew how to deal with the king, while the prince didn’t. Or maybe Jürgen loved him after all. He knew that Kloppo did. “Thank you, Your Grace!” He bowed and started off towards the exit.

“You have never called me that.” Klopp noted. Marco turned around and saw pride in his eyes.

All of a sudden, he knew what he had to do. It was so obvious, and yet, he had failed to see it so miserably. _They_ had failed to see it. Marcel had asked him to help the prince while he was here by painting a better picture of him. But, it wasn’t what he was supposed to do to escape. Not directly, at least. What had the fortune-teller said? They had to learn their lessons. They had been too caught up in figuring out what that lesson could be that they overlooked the fact that it was supposed to be _their_ lesson.

The pride he now saw in the king’s eyes wasn’t directed at the prince. No, he was proud of Marco’s real self, the one who played football and was desperate to get home. They were here to step up for themselves, and by doing that, they would help their counterparts, too. The realization washed through him and he felt excited and joyful. He couldn’t wait to share this key to their way home with Mario. There was hope after all, and together, they would surely manage to leave sooner rather than later.


	18. Stolen Kisses and Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all the drama and serious talks, I though I would give you a fluffier and lighter chapter, so here it is. I hope you will like it. Please, let me know if you did so. :-)

Julian was lost in the royal castle. He already had trouble remembering just the way to the chamber where he and his lord stayed, and honestly, he rarely saw more than that. He was a common servant, he couldn’t walk up and down wherever he wanted. This time though, he really needed to go to a special place, to see a special someone. The short glimpse he caught of Erik when they arrived at the castle was far from enough for him. He had to see his love soon, to make sure that the brunet was alright. But, there were two big obstacles in his way. First of all, he had no idea where Erik was staying. Even if he still was in Mats’ quarters, Julian had no idea how to get there. And secondly, his lord could come back from the council any moment and no matter how much he loved Erik, he couldn’t risk not being here when he would return.

So he sat in the chamber next to his lord’s, where he was supposed to stay for the next few days. He didn’t know how long they would be in the capital. Not for long, he supposed. After the funeral of Lord Höwedes, Benedikt would surely like to take his father’s remains back to their castle and bury him next to his forefathers. He stared out the window, sitting on the hard windowsill. He hoped that he would see Erik somewhere in the yard, but apart from the guards and a few servant rushing up and down, he didn’t see anyone.

He thought about the life awaiting him. He was loyal to Benni, he had been his servant all his life, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he was afraid of the changes that awaited him. Now he would have to work more and assist his lord in more serious business. He would have to accompany him wherever he went, and that wherever could mean days, weeks or even months of traveling and time spent away from his love. And he didn’t want to do that. Not that he would have a say. Although Benni was one of the kinder lords who treated their servants as good as they could, Julian had no illusions. If he asked Benni to let him stay at home just to be able to see Erik more often, he would have to search for another nobleman employing him.

On the other hand, he was also worried about Benni. He loved him and feared for him. The life of a lord of his position was dangerous and while Julian believed in his skills, his heart was heavy with the feeling that Benni had extremely hard weeks ahead of him until he would secure his position and show everyone that he was a strong leader and ruler, just like his father had been. And the attack on Mats troubled Julian, as well. What if the next time, they would come for his Benni? He would do his best to protect his lord, but he wasn’t a soldier. He had learned to fight, but he couldn’t swing his sword as well as a skilled assassin.

“May I come in?” He heard a voice from the door. It was weak, but it still resembled that sweet voice that made Julian’s heart warm him from the inside. A happy grin spread out on his face even before he turned around to look at his guest.

Erik was still pale compared to the usual rosiness of his face, but he was in better shape than the last time Julian had seen him. He was leaning on a crutch as he stumbled into the chamber. Julian rushed over to him and held him with his arms wrapped around the brunet’s waist. He aided him to the bed and they sat down. Erik rested his head on Julian’s shoulder and the dark haired started to stroke his cheeks tenderly.

“How are you?” He asked quietly.

“I’m doing better.” Erik sighed. “And I am happy that you are here next to me and safe.”

“Erik, how did you know about the Black Knight going after us?” Julian asked. Benni had told him why he had sent a group of soldiers to meet them and protect them.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember much of that day. I know that we went to the jousting tournament, and Prince Marco has told me that I was hit. But to me, everything went black. Until suddenly, I saw the knight attacking you and Prince Mats. I woke up and told Prince Marco to send guards after you. He tried to calm me down and told me that it was only a dream, but it felt so real. I knew it was going to happen and I wouldn’t give in. Until finally, he sent Mario after the First Knight who must have believed him, because he sent a pigeon to your lord. I am so thankful that Lord Benedikt took it seriously, too.” Erik was out of breath by the time he finished. He had trouble speaking, he still needed to spare his energy.

“Thank you, Erik.” Julian gently laid him down on the bed and lay down next to him, propping himself up on his elbow. “I don’t know how you knew about it, but you saved the Lord Advisor’s life. You know, he sent me away immediately, and he faced the Black Knight alone. He wanted me to flee.”

“He must know how much you mean to me.” Erik smiled, but it was a sad smile.

They always came to this. The strong feelings they had for each other had to stop somewhere, because they couldn’t be each other’s completely. They had their own duties, and they were the safest with their lords. Neither Mats, nor Benni minded their affection, which couldn’t be said about most people in this world. Julian knew that they would be persecuted if it weren’t for their lords protecting them. Plus, in their current roles, they were only servants and not many could be bothered with them.

“What do you think? Will he be the heir?” Julian asked suddenly.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t look like he wants it too much.” Erik shrugged. He lifted his head to show his love that he needed a kiss. Julian smiled and complied with the wish.

“If he does, he won’t be able to see Lord Benedikt anymore.” The younger one noted sadly.

“Well, I think that Lord Benedikt’s new role won’t let them meet as often as they would like to anyways.” Erik pointed out.

“Yes, I agree.” Julian nodded. “And it’s bad. They love each other. They shouldn’t have to be forced to choose between their love and their roles.”

“But what can they do? After all, they are the sons of the two most important and powerful men in the kingdom.” Erik elaborated. “The people trust them and need their guidance. Should they cover their ears to them and throw away their responsibilities just because they have fallen in love with each other? They aren’t peasants, Julian. They are noblemen and they know when they have to put aside their own needs for the good of many.”

“I haven’t thought that you believed in nobility that much, Erik.” Julian chuckled. “They might be noble by birth, but they are also human. They aren’t stock to be utilized. They have their own feelings. The people shouldn’t ignore that and expect everything from them.”

“What are you suggesting?” Erik frowned. “I am not sure my head is already well enough to have such philosophic conversations. The Wise have said clearly what the role of who is. If we ignore that, we just create chaos and disorder. Do you want that?”

“No, of course not!” Julian shook his head. “It’s just… I don’t think that Prince Mats or Lord Benedikt are better than us just because they were born into a more fortunate family. I know, they are wiser than we are, but that’s because they learned from the cleverest people. Had we been brought up the way they were, I’m sure we could do an equally good job as they are.”

He was dead serious, but to his utmost annoyance, Erik burst out laughing. He didn’t stop for a long time and when he finally caught his breath, a tear of joy ran down his cheek. Julian rolled his eyes. He was speaking honestly, from the bottom of his heart, and his love just brushed it away as if it was nothing.

“I am sorry, Julian, but you are so adorable when you aim higher than you should.” Erik reprimanded him tenderly. “My father always told me that the presence of the many great men won’t do me any good, and I can see why he might have been right. We are servants, Julian, we can’t change the world. But, we can help other, more powerful men to do it their way.”

“You know, maybe I liked you better when you were unconscious. At least, you didn’t hurt me then.” Julian groused. He sat up and turned away from Erik. He was only playing. He wasn’t mad at his love at all, but he wanted the brunet to feel a bit bad about his cruel refusal.

“Jule, I’m sorry!” Erik whispered. His voice broke and it told Julian that he succeeded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just don’t want you to think of things that are not your problem. That’s why we have the many lords. They can deal with those problems much better than we ever could. Please, don’t be mad at– Are you laughing?” He snapped and Julian burst out in a roaring laughter.

He lay down on the bed again and started to roll around, grabbing his stomach as he recalled Erik’s guilty expression over and over again. The older one snorted and lay down next to him, shooting him a reproachful glance. But then, his features softened too, and he smiled with Julian. It was so great to be together again. They could never really be mad at each other, and whenever they experienced a similar disagreement, in the end, they usually ended up laughing. They were crazy about the other one, they just couldn’t let their love vanish over anything.

“But let me hear you, oh, Wise Julian, what is your plan? How could we possible do anything about our lords?” Erik mocked him, but he was truly interested what the other one was thinking about. He knew Julian; he wouldn’t have brought up the topic unless something was on his mind.

“Well, I think they are too caught up with their roles. What if they had a few hours untroubled only for themselves? Maybe they could set things straight and admit their feelings for each other and that they could be each other’s? I’m sure the people wouldn’t care about whom they loved as long as they helped them when they were in need.”

“Julian, I don’t give you enough credit…” Erik laughed. “How on earth are you planning to do this?”

“Well, I don’t know it, yet.” Julian admitted. “But it isn’t stupid, right? I mean, you will help me?” He looked at Erik so sheepishly that the brunet couldn’t say no.

“Come here, you young fellow so full with love!” He embraced Julian and pulled him close to himself. He kissed his lips and the dark haired blushed after the praise. “Of course I will help you! I care about Prince Mats, and I want him to be happy. And you are right, he can find his happiness only by Lord Benedikt’s side. And maybe they need some encouragement from behind. They might be clever noblemen, but that doesn’t make them wise in all areas of life. Not as wise as two innocent servant boys could be…” He hinted, and Julian grinned.

“I don’t think we are that innocent anymore.” He slipped his hand under Erik’s shirt and his fingers ran up his strong torso.

“You are having a point there.” Erik agreed, his own hands showing interest in a body part much lower on Julian’s body. The first touch already told him that his love was as interested in him as much as it was the other way around.

Their lips connected and they communicated without words. At first, Julian pushed his tongue into Erik’s mouth. They danced for a while, but then, Erik took over and made the dark haired retreat, now exploring his soft cavern. Their hands were busy, too. Julian’s hand turned south and was making quick progress in unlacing Erik’s pants.

The brunet had some advantage though, and he was the first one to touch naked skin on that special place. He didn’t waste any time. He wrapped his fingers around Julian’s throbbing shaft. The younger one moaned and something wet oozed out of his slit, moistening Erik’s fingers. Erik smiled and stopped for a moment in their kissing, just to appreciate the devotion his love had shown to him. He found it so charming that Julian was so eager.

Julian succeeded in his undertaking just a second later and Erik found out that keeping one’s emotions at bay wasn’t such an easy task after all. Not when a skilled lover was treating you the gentlest way possible. Julian’s fingers pleasured him in all the right places without any rush. Erik felt that even without rushing things, this lovemaking wouldn’t last as long as he would have liked to. He was already too close to coming and Julian’s involuntary wriggles were the proof that the other one wasn’t doing any better.

Erik flung his leg over Julian’s so that their manhoods touched and he took into his hand both of their shafts, setting up the same lazy rhythm. Julian didn’t object. He pulled his hand back, but only after brushing his palm over their slits. He brought his hand to their heads and licked over it before letting Erik taste it, too.

All his senses were alight. It was simply too much. To see Julian’s flushed face, to hear his ragged breathing and soft moans, to taste his pleasure on his tongue, their manhoods touching and just generally, _feeling_ him, was too much. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He sped up his strokes and moved his hips in search for more friction. Julian followed his example and the soft touches of their members pushed them over the edge, the milky white proof of their heights coating Erik’s fingers.

A stupid and satisfied smile spread over their faces and they just looked at each other as their semen dripped onto the sheets. In a minute, they would have to go on with their work, preparing everything their lords would need at dinner, but this single minute was theirs and they wanted to spend it the best way possible, relishing the most important things in life and uttering the sweetest confession they knew.

_I love you._

 


	19. Mother, Father and Brother

The guards nodded when King Jürgen approached. He recognized one of them, the other one must have come with the Höwedes family. But neither of them stopped him. He was the country’s head, he could go wherever and whenever he pleased to go. He knocked on the strong wooden door and then he opened it just enough to be able to push his head through the crack.

“May I come in?” He asked almost afraid. He might have been the sovereign, but he would have been mad to think that just because of that he was the most powerful man in the world and he could do what he wanted to do.

“You are my king, I am your guest. I suppose I am not left with much of a choice.” Lady Frieda mused playfully and smiled at the old man. “Come on in, Jürgen! I wanted to talk to you anyways. You can go away, darling.” she turned to the young girl busy with setting the lady’s clothes perfectly. “I can finish this on my own.”

They waited until the girl picked up her things and then hurried out of the chamber. The lady looked after her with an expression hard to decipher, it resembled boredom, mostly. “We never run out of relatives and banner men whose offspring deserve a place to serve me. To learn how to become a lady, they say.”

“If that is so, they couldn’t find a more suitable teacher than you, My Lady!” The king bowed.

“Oh, Jürgen!” She laughed. “That’s the stupidest lie I have ever heard, but it still flatters me, so thank you. Not like you know what it feels like. The king can bring into his court whomever he likes. He doesn’t have to care about anyone’s opinion, mostly because no one would tell him it. But on the other hand, you haven’t used your right the best way possible…”

“Who, Mario?” Jürgen sighed. “He got a place here only because of his father. He gave us his horses when we were in need, and the protocol demanded from me to offer him anything in return. He asked for his sons to be taken into the royal castle. Who wouldn’t have?”

“But young Götze has used his opportunity to the fullest.” Lady Frieda pointed out. “He gathered a few good points at the heir. If Marco is the heir, that is.” Her eyebrow ran up her forehead.

“You think I am making a mistake.” The king stated.

“No, I think you are making the bigger mistake from the two mistakes available to you.” She shook her head.

“What do you have against Mats?” Jürgen snapped. “He is wise, he knows all about ruling a land, he can be objective when it comes to decisions, he is–”

“He is a bastard.” The lady cut the list short. “He isn’t your son and no one ever will forget that. You never admitted it, but you convinced everyone with your distant behavior to the Lord Advisor or whatever you call him. And now you want to make up for the years? It won’t work, Jürgen. The people don’t forget. They believe in the power of the royal family. For some reason they think that we noblemen are better than them. But all you do is weakening your position. If you make Mats your heir, you might choose the more suitable candidate, but you also give him nothing to rule over. The lords will rise up and the people will follow them, they won’t have any other choice.”

“But the people love Mats!” The king objected. “They all want him over Marco.”

“The people love whoever feeds them.” She said firmly.

“That’s why you are making your folk hate Mats?” The old man asked suddenly.

“I see you have a few little birds in my castle. Who are they? What do they chirp to you?” The lady smiled.

“Let it be enough that Walter knew about them.” The king avoided a direct answer. “And they told me how you despise Mats and try to keep him away from Benedikt. Do you refuse that?”

“Oh, not at all.” She said. “If it was up to me, the Lord Advisor would never enter our castle again. But, for some reason, our laws don’t allow women to rule a lordship, so my son has taken over my husband’s role, and there is no way he will say no to Mats.”

“Do you think your schemes can work?” Jürgen asked. “Can you stop two young men?”

“I am not the first one to try.” She smiled under her nose.

“But they love each other!”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic man, Your Grace.” She chuckled softly. “Benedikt and Mats love each other, that’s beyond doubt. But, let’s be honest: this love will do them more harm than good. Benni is making a big mistake with being together with him. I only want him not to forget about his duties. He will find a young lady, wed her, beget little kids, and what he does apart from that is his business completely, but first of all, he will do what is expected of him.”

“Will it be a happy life?” The king interposed.

“No.” She said. “But it will be a long life and he might get used to it.” She took a deep breath. “You must think that I am a heartless woman, a shame to all mothers in the world. But am I so bad for loving my son and trying to protect him? I wouldn’t have any problems with him living his life with Mats. It was obvious right when they met that they would be more than friends. But, not everyone is like us, Jürgen. We see them as our children, we would never harm them. But the church is very decided on these issues, and there were lords who killed their opponents for less. If Benedikt and Mats stay together, it will be a death-warrant for them.”

“We could change it.” Klopp said.

“What?” The Lady gaped at him.

“I am still the king. I could change the law and let them be together.”

“And bring a death-warrant on your own head. Congratulations for this idea, Jürgen, you underwhelmed yourself.” She mocked him. “Maybe you have spent too much time in your castle, and you have lost your touch with the real world, Your Grace.”

“Will you at least listen to me?” The man burst out. He was getting annoyed, but Lady Frieda met his tense look.

“No, I won’t.” She said. “Because this is a bad idea, and you know it. You are desperate to leave behind a better world for your son and for Mats, but by doing favors for them you risk everything you have ever fought for. Open your eyes, Jürgen. I can understand your worries. You don’t want to live in fear for your children. Believe me, I know the feeling, that’s what I have been doing half my life. Whenever Benni and Mats disappeared, I prayed that no one would find them. You can’t convince everyone that what they are doing isn’t a sin. I accepted it a long time ago. You can’t put the needs of a few before the needs of many. I am sorry to tell you this, but it would lead to chaos, and that’s what would put their lives into danger.”

“So that’s it? The best I can do for them is watch how they are torn between two fires and slowly get burnt?” He sighed and his shoulders fell forward.

“Jürgen!” Lady Frieda whispered sympathetically. She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his back. “How long have we known each other? Decades. I know what you are going through. I don’t like it either. My son thinks that I am a heartless shrew who hates Mats. It is far from the truth. I would be blind not to see how much they suit each other. Mats is the man who can make my son happy. It was hard to admit, but it is so. I had to steel my heart, because if Benni saw that I am not really that cold towards their relationship, he would try to convince me and then, I wouldn’t be able to say no. It is one of those things they won’t understand until we will have been dead for a long time.”

“Is it?” The king frowned. “Maybe it is a thing _we_ don’t understand. Or we just shrug it off with a simple we can’t do anything about it, because it is the easier thing to do. Maybe we are too afraid to turn away from the wall we have been facing for years, because we don’t want to see that there is a path right next to us that goes round the wall.”

“I remember why Walter thought you were a great king.” She smiled. “You are never afraid to go against everyone when you are convinced that the cause you are fighting for is right.” She took a deep breath. “Do you know what? Try what you were planning, if you want to. I will be the happiest mother in the world if you succeed. But I don’t want to have anything to do with it. Nothing personal. It’s only politics. If the plan backfires, I would like to be in a position to save my son’s life.” She explained.

The king had to laugh. Once again, Frieda showed why she was called the Rose Lady by many. She seemed to be a beautiful and kind person, someone who cared about her people, and it was true. But, she also had her thorns that could stab anyone who might hurt her or her family. Not even he was an exception. He could understand her. He would have liked to know her standing on his side, but he couldn’t blame her for fearing for her son’s life. It seemed that he had to do everything alone, but he was up for the challenge. He couldn’t let Marco get out of his responsibilities, but if there was a way to make Mats’ life better, he was going to go down that road.

 

* * *

 

Mats was completely lost without his servant. Erik had tried to lay out the clothes for him for dinner, but he could barely stand on his feet and he was too tired and dizzy to be of any real help, so Mats had had to send him away. And now, he was standing in his chamber, half-dressed, trying to put on his doublet. It was the tenth vain attempt and he threw the soft fabric on his bed furiously.

He couldn’t have wished for a more humiliating council meeting. He had been invited there, but he had been unable to do anything about the taunts he had had to endure. Lady Höwedes could say whatever she pleased, and Mats could only listen to her and pretend that everything was alright, when it wasn’t so. Benni shot him a few sympathetic glances, but they weren’t enough to make him feel any better. He wanted to cry out his pain and corner the old lady. She couldn’t speak to him like that! But it was pointless anger he was feeling. The truth was that she could do it as long as Mats was a bastard.

Thinking about it, the king acknowledging him as his own son would maybe help him in that regard, but as the older one from the two children, he would also become the heir, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to live his life in peace, something that wasn’t going to happen. He had an important position in the court either way; he had to fulfill his role and for that, he couldn’t be selfish.

He would have to get through this dinner and endure Lady Frieda’s further comments without the soothing knowledge that he could see Benni later. It wasn’t going to happen. It was too risky, and Mats might have been crazy in love with the blond, but he wasn’t a fool. Not entirely.

“May I come in?” A voice startled him. He spun around and relaxed when he saw who his guest was.

“Marco!” He smiled at the prince. “Only if you have any idea how to put on a doublet. I’m lost without Erik.”

“I suppose we can try how much I have learned from Marcel.” The blond hauled himself off from the doorframe. There was something strange about his manners, and Mats couldn’t ignore it any longer. His feelings started when Marco had come back from the woods with Mario. Ever since then, Marco had behaved like a different person. Still Marco, but different. But, as he walked over to Mats and lifted the garment from the bed, he was like the prince Mats had known all his life.

Mats held his arms away from his body and waited until his brother helped him into the pompous clothes. Marco was wearing a doublet, too, a green one with beautiful gold and silver stitching. It suited him a lot and he looked royal in them.

“Ready for dinner?” Mats asked of him just to break the silence between them that had already stretched too long.

“Yes. I will finally have the opportunity to talk to Benedikt and his mother at least, since a chance hadn’t been given to me earlier.” Marco groused.

“Be careful what you wish for, Marco!” Mats laughed. “I haven’t enjoyed our talk during the council meeting. There are certain things both of us do that don’t flatter her.”

Marco eyed him suspiciously for a moment before he understood what Mats was suggesting. “Oh!” He gaped. “Since we are already talking about them, I would like to ask you a favor, Mats. It is about Mario.”

“Go on!” Mats groaned as Marco laced his doublet with skilled fingers.

“The king was gracious enough to grant my wish, and Mario and Felix won’t work in the stables anymore. Felix will find a craftsman and be his apprentice, while Mario– well, I have to find a place for him in the castle.”

“That’s some surprising news.” Mats noted. He wouldn’t have thought that Jürgen would agree to something like this.

“Yes, and I was wondering if you could help me– us.” Marco said. “Erik is still injured and it will take a few days until he will be able to serve you again. In the meantime, could you maybe take Mario as your servant? Just until I find him something permanent. You know, Jürgen wants him to be far enough from me, if he is to stay in the castle.” He was begging and he took Mats’ silence for a sign of disapproval. “Please, Mats. You must help us.” His voice died away.

“I’m not sure if it is a good idea, Marco.” Mats hesitated. “I have nothing against Mario, and I would like to help him, but if the king changes his mind–”

“He won’t.” Marco said firmly. “Mats, this is our only chance. I’ve promised the king to be an obedient son, and I will do whatever he wants me to do, but please, help Mario!”


	20. Dinner Pleasantries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to show you how Marco's different perspective from our world can help him achieve some change in this fantasy world, I hope I did it successfully with this chapter. I thank you for your ongoing support and the involvement with this story you show. It is a great feeling to know that you love my work, and it helps me keep going. :-)

One of the many big chamber in the royal castle was decorated perfectly for the dinner. The monarch’s and the Höwedes family’s banners hung on the walls along with their crests. A hundred candles illuminated the room and the long table was set for at least as many people, even though only a few would attend. Marco was astonished by the grandiosity of the chamber and he stood by Mats’ side in awe for a second before the king walked past them and they entered after him.

Lady Frieda and Benedikt were already sitting near the head of the table. Marco followed Mats and copied all of his movements as he greeted the lady first and then the lord. He was feeling more and more comfortable in his new role, but he was far from knowing what to do. When they were all seated – with the king sitting at the end of the table, Marco on his right, Mats opposite the blond along with Benni and Lady Höwedes on her son’s left –, one of the servants standing in the corner rang a bell.

The next moment, the doors were open and half a dozen maids walked in, carrying heavy trays packed with food. The delicious smell hit Marco’s nose immediately and only then he realized his hunger. When the young girls put down the food, boys arrived with huge jugs of wine. Then came Julian, Marcel and Mario, wearing a bit better clothes than the kitchen servants. Mario looked as lost as Marco must have been and he copied Marcel clumsily as they walked in the wall’s shadow to take their positions behind their lords.

They waited until the king reached for the food. The moment it happened, a joyful music started to play and Marco only then noticed a band sitting on the balcony above them. It was a strange experience. He had seen something similar in movies, but living it was something entirely different. It felt like he had found himself in a strange fantasy scene and he had to admit that he enjoyed it. Between these walls, he forgot about the problems they had to face and for the first time since they had come here, he relaxed completely. Mario was standing opposite him, behind Mats, and he shot him an encouraging look. The brunet wasn’t as happy about the situation as Marco, but it was obvious that he had fallen under its spell nonetheless.

Klopp put a huge amount of food on his plate and Marcel stepped forward and filled his glass with wine. Marco counted until five, and when he saw that no one was going to reach for the food, he gave in to his starving stomach’s wishes and started to put huge heaps of potatoes and meat on his own plate. The other three only did the same after he was finished. Julian filled both his lord’s and lady’s glasses, Marcel helped out Marco and Mario did his very best to do the same for Mats. Only the most observant eyes could spot his inexperience in this activity.

“Please, enjoy this dinner, and let us remember the old Lord Höwedes and have a drink for the well-being of the new one!” The king raised his cup. All followed his example and took a sip, with Lady Frieda being the most careful about it. Marco suspected that she only licked the sweet fluid. It was a shame, because the wine tasted wonderfully, it was nothing like Marco had ever drunk, and he wasn’t known for sparing money on such things in real life. He wanted the best he could get all the time.

They didn’t talk for a long time. The food was as splendid as the drink and Marco found himself full very early, with half of his dinner still sitting on his plate. The others seemed to be more used to this kind of dining. They ate with great appetite and only stopped to take another sip from the wine.

“Julian! My cup is empty!” Lady Frieda called out all of a sudden. Marco couldn’t understand when she had had the time to drink her wine.

“I apologize, My Lady!” Julian stepped forward. He didn’t look completely okay. Marco suspected that he was still with Erik in his thoughts, probably being extremely concerned about his love’s state.

“You just can’t find a decent servant these days.” She sighed, talking to Julian without even looking at him. The young man blushed as he refilled his lady’s glass.

“I think they are doing a great job.” Marco spoke up. He felt dizzy from the sweet juice, otherwise he wouldn’t have looked for conflicts. Mats had warned him about the lady’s tongue that could hurt you very easily.

“Of course, you have never had problems finding servants who could satisfy all your desires.” She noted.

Marco saw red for a moment, but then, the change he could consider more and more common happened. He lost control over his own body again, and the prince took over. It felt like Marco froze for a moment and someone had removed everything from his brain. He was pushed into the background and could only watch as another personality filled his mind with its own thoughts. Marco could see the prince’s all memories and it was so much to take that he felt the urge to close his eyes to close out all the stimuli. Only, he couldn’t do it. He was forced to watch everything the prince wanted to show to him and he readied himself for minutes of being the audience for what felt like his own life.

But the strange feeling vanished as quickly as it came. The prince receded and Marco could feel his strength returning. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second, but he was so much wiser than he had been only half a minute ago. He glared at the lady who looked quite amused and satisfied with her witty remark. The moment of hesitation was enough for Marco to calm down and now he could speak up with more tact. He knew what he had to say and he did it with great confidence.

“I’m sure you would be able to do the same if only you lowered your high expectations, My Lady!” He said smiling.

He got the desired effect. Lady Höwedes’s eyes were on fire and she took a long deep breath as she stared at Marco, ready to kill him with her look. She even stopped chewing and didn’t move a single muscle in her body. But more important were the king’s and Mats’s reactions. Jürgen took another sip from his wine to cover his smile as he looked forward to the upcoming altercation. At first, Mats shot Marco a reprimanding glance, but something about Marco’s body language must have convinced him, because he relaxed and waited for the developments with great anticipation.

“I suspect we have different ideas on what to expect from our servants, My Prince.” Lady Frieda hit back.

“Oh, I am sure about that.” Marco nodded. “Also, we have different methods to treat them. Some want their servants to fear them, others base their loyalty on love and mutual respect.”

“Or an embrace.” She hissed. The king waved his hand at the musicians, and they started to play louder.

“Sometimes an embrace can change a lot of things, My Lady!” Marco didn’t stop smiling. “Sometimes it can open your eyes and make you observant of the truth. And your brain might not like the truth, but you can’t rule only with reason. You need emotions for that, as well.” He recalled a lesson Kloppo repeated to them before the most important matches when he didn’t want their focus to ruin their devotion and passion.

“Hm, I wouldn’t have taken you for such an understanding ruler, My Prince. Surely, your previous deeds haven’t proven that. I can’t help but wonder: why exactly don’t you follow your own advice?” She inquired.

“It’s never too late to start a new life.” Marco said musingly. He reached for his cup and wanted to drink, but he found it empty. Marcel noticed it immediately and rushed forward, only to be stopped by the blond. “Please, Marcel!” He said gently and took the jug from the shorter one. Marco stood up and filled his glass on his own, to the bewilderment of everyone in the chamber. When he was finished, he put the jug on the table and raised his cup. “I’d like to propose a toast.” Benni and Mats stood up immediately, but the older two remained in their seats. “For the many servants unnoticed who spend all their lives aiding us, and our gracious king and lords noticing this loyalty and vocation.” He added.

Not even Lady Frieda could ignore the latter part. She stood up unwillingly and raised her cup as well, but her eyes spoke for her. This wasn’t a won battle yet. She didn’t let Marco wait for her answer for a long time. As soon as she sat down, she turned to him again.

“A very touching speech indeed, My Prince, but I’m afraid I have to bring you down. You might think too much of our servants. Yes, they work diligently, but to make them one of us only because of that”, she shook her head “, I can’t agree with that. How does it compare to the work the lords do, the hours spent caring about their people’s well-being? I have seen it with my own eyes, My Prince. How many nights did my late husband spend worrying about his lordship?”

“And I am sure the people saw that as well and thanked him for that with their love.” Marco answered the question for her. She looked taken aback. Probably, she would have liked to carry on with her speech, but with Marco being quicker, she had no chance to do that anymore. Now the blond had Benni’s attention as well, and by his look, his agreement, too. “We can’t expect to get something without giving the same, My Lady!”

She couldn’t speak for some time and the silence became heavier as it grew with each passing second. “We were brought up in different times, My Prince!” She finally said. “In my days, tradition was much more important and a prince would have been strongly told off for going against the established order in such a direct manner. You can ask the king about that, if you would like. He didn’t have such a forgiving father who let him create his own opinion and also let him be more tolerant with– unnatural activities.”

“Oh yes, those educational slaps were extremely beneficial.” The king laughed. Lady Frieda leaned back in her chair satisfied to have found an ally. “They reassured me that I was on the right track to annoy the old fellow.” He added to the lady’s annoyance and the delight of the three young man and their servants.

“I apologize if I offended you, Your Grace!” Marco bowed towards the king.

“Not at all, Marco!” Jürgen laughed. “I’m quite enjoying this. Please, teach us more lessons about how we should treat our servants!”

“Jürgen!” Lady Frieda couldn’t hold herself back any longer. She looked paler and couldn’t believe her ears. “This boy has clearly had too much to drink. It would be too cruel on him to let him make things he will come to regret later.” She explained. She wasn’t right. Marco hadn’t felt himself this sober and active his whole life. He felt completely energized and he had the impression that the prince in him was supporting him.

“Then he will learn from his own stupidity. It will be an important lesson.” The king said dryly, never looking at her.

“Thank you, Your Grace!” Marco said. “Well, let’s start with this table. It is set magnificently and there’s plenty of space for more. Mario, Marcel, Julian, why don’t you join us at the table?” Marco asked and the reactions of everyone in the chamber were priceless. Everyone looked shocked, only Mario glared at Marco, reprimanding him with his look. _Are you out of your mind?_ , he seemed to ask.

“I think I will retire.” Lady Frieda said, having heard enough.

“Mother, would you offend the king with declining his most generous invitation to this dinner?” Benni intervened. Lady Frieda fumed in herself, but she sat back. Obviously, she couldn’t accept that she hadn’t found anyone who would take her side and found the idea of having a dinner with servants below her.

“Boys, the food will get cold if you don’t hurry.” Marco smiled at the servants.

Marcel was the first to move. He walked over to a chair on shaking legs and slumped down grateful to have something to hold his body. Julian was a bit more confident, although he still rounded the table to avoid sitting next to his lady. Mario remained standing and looked at Marco like a puppy who didn’t dare to do anything.

“This is ridiculous!” Lady Frieda snorted. “They are servants! They don’t know the proper protocol–”

“They have seen us eat many times, I’m sure they will manage.” Marco said. “And even if they don’t– using the wrong fork will certainly not bring the end of the world upon us.”

“But servants eating with their lords might!” She burst out for a final time. “You are living in a dreamland, Marco, and you are blinded by the affection for one of your servants. It is clear that this Götze boy has washed his mind completely. What has he asked you to do? To get him into the circle of the highest nobility? And then what? Bring shame on you? He is a servant, Marco! He doesn’t know anything but how to serve!”

She reached for an empty wooden bowl and held it with her arm stretched out, obviously trying to prove something. She then let go of it and it started to fall. Mario’s football reflexes kicked in. He wasn’t standing far from her and he stepped forward. He raised his leg and kicked the bowl into the air. Then, he let it fall on his chest and then into his hands. Everyone watched him with awe and he blushed by this unwanted attention. But Marco wouldn’t have expected what he did next.

“I think you dropped this, My Lady!” He said and offered the bowl for her. She glared at him for a long moment, the tension between them almost too much. In the end, she only sprang up and rushed out of the chamber.

“Well done, boys!” Jürgen praised them, clapping his hands. “Although I fear you have only awaken the sleeping lion.” He laughed. “Speaking of sleep, I think I have already had enough and I will retire. Mario, please, have a seat and enjoy the rest of the evening.” He pointed at the lady’s now empty chair. He cast a final proud glance at Marco and then stood up. He walked with heavy steps and stopped in the door. “Should I send a word for Erik to let him know that he can join you?”


	21. Meeting Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, I'm here with a filler chapter, but hopefully you will like it nonetheless. The plot will continue with the next chapter and the next day. :-)  
> Dear Blue Night, you wanted to read about the real prince Marco being trapped, I hope you will like what I have come up with. :-)

Mario lay on his cot in a chamber right below Mats’s quarters. His new lord’s, he had to remind himself. He wasn’t sure what to think about his new job. He got it that Marco tried to help him, but at the same time, he feared that it would be obvious that he had no idea how to serve Mats very early on and it could put him into even more trouble. Not that he needed it. The blond had tried to convince him that Jürgen had forgotten about his threats, but it was hard to believe it completely. You didn’t relax that easily when your head ending up on a stake was at stake.

Mario had gone to the dinner with mixed feelings, most of them troubling. He had definitely not expected what came out of it. Marco had been astonishing; he could top Lady Höwedes’s every comment and ridiculed her. But all Mario cared about was the reaction of the king, and Kloppo looked more than pleased. Mario was sure that Marco was on the right way to make the sovereign reconsider his opinion on the prince, and if it was really needed to get them home, Mario was glad. He would have been happier though if he was as sure about what he needed to do as Marco was. The blond might not have been right with all his suspicions, but at least, he tried.

Mario had a harder time. He had no idea what this world’s Mario’s life was like. He only knew that he was Marco’s lover, but he couldn’t possibly sleep with his best friend. Not that the blond left him unimpressed, but how could they jump into something they couldn’t continue in their real life? Marco’s initial idea about Mario having to step up in the stables wasn’t right, either. Mario had no chance to shrug off his harness there, and he had learned it the hard way. His back still hurt, although the treatment he had gotten eased his ache at least a little bit.

He turned on his other side frustrated. He couldn’t fall asleep because of his thoughts, but he couldn’t calm his head down, either. He had to do something about his situation as soon as possible. He didn’t want to spend more time than necessary here. It was too dangerous. Ideally, he wanted to leave in two days, maybe it would happen after the prince’s proposal to Cathy. Or more ideally, before that. Mario couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Marco ask her to marry him. Maybe their quest was to prevent this wedding? No, it couldn’t be. It might have been a side result of their activities in this world, but eventually, they had to learn something about their own lives.

Strange as it was, Mario envied Marco for having to deal with the real prince hiding in him. At least those few changes in personality gave him clues about what he was supposed to do and guided Marco. The blond had shared his suspicion with Mario during dinner about the prince wanting to cooperate. How much Mario wished for his counterpart to do the same! But, as things stood, the former stable boy was the most coward person Mario had ever known and it annoyed him. Was he like that as well? Was he too afraid to open his mouth and speak up for himself? Did he give up fighting too early or without even trying? The questions were killing him and he saw no chance of ever answering them for sure. He needed to find a way to connect with his counterpart.

Just as he thought about that, he froze in his place. It was much like a blast in his head that threw him into the back of his mind and someone much bigger and stronger marched in and took over. This new Mario was intimidating and the footballer Mario had the urge to cry and whine.

No, he did not want to live through this. He’d rather stay clueless about his quest and try a hundred things if one of them would be the right one. This was too much on him; he couldn’t cope with it.

The first shock subsided after a few seconds. The new Mario filled the void his own retreating personality left behind and previously unknown memories appeared in the form of mental images. Careless strolls with Marco in the castle’s garden, riding together, the two young men gazing up at the night sky, and many more sweet and idyllic moments. Mario could recall many similar scenes from his own life. But, there was nothing romantic or physical about the two footballers’ relationship! They were only friends, there was nothing more to them.

Then, the images changed. They didn’t stay for long, only one flash, and then, the next one appeared in front of Mario, but he could keep up with the pace. He saw fights between the prince and the king, Kehli criticizing the blond, Robert explaining to him how he would never be a good fighter. Then came the more disturbing images. People turning away from their prince disgusted, disappointed looks measuring him and faces lacking all signs of hope. Then, the images suddenly stopped and Mario could feel power returning into his body again.

What did it all mean? The other Mario was trying to tell him something, but what it was? He cared about Marco, that was clear. But how did it translate into his life? Suddenly, it became obvious. The explanation was so simple, and yet, Mario had never thought of that. _He_ cared about Marco a lot. He had watched the criticism the blond had to endure for Dortmund’s bad season frustrated. He had read every new article about Marco’s bad physical condition with balled fists and angry breaths. He had known they weren’t true, and yet, Mario didn’t say anything publicly. He even said in a stupid interview that he couldn’t be bothered with Dortmund’s problems, after all, he had nothing to do with them!

He regretted it. It was everything he didn’t want to do. He only decided this way for one reason: fear. He dreaded that if he comforted Marco and talked to him every day, their friendship would turn into something deeper and bigger. Love. And Mario didn’t want to think of that possibility. Not up to now.

 

* * *

 

Marco couldn’t fall asleep, the memories from the dinner kept coming up in his mind. He couldn’t care about his altercation with Lady Höwedes, only the later part mattered to him. How much they enjoyed themselves with Mats, Benni, Julian and Erik! Marco and Mario both knew that these boys weren’t the same as their football colleagues, but they still found the common tone very easily. Marco was grateful for this evening. It might have started off horribly, but the end was pleasant. Once again, Marco realized that he hadn’t appreciated his teammates enough. Of course, his injuries had made him unable to play for the national team, but even then, he was in contact with them. It was surprising that they still talked to him, considering how grumpy he could be.

He made a promise to himself that he would change his attitude once he returned to his own world. _If_ he returned there. Things had sped up in the last day or so, but he still didn’t feel any closer to home. They were lost in this world, and if he was right, and he had to help out their selves from this universe, he had only prolonged their stay with the promise to the king. He could tell that the prince Marco wasn’t very pleased with his oath, because as soon as Marco walked out of the council chamber, the prince took over and Marco felt like a cornered animal, seeing his fury.

It was the past, though. Now, the prince hiding in him was peaceful, maybe already asleep, and Marco was left alone with his own thoughts in the friendly darkness of his quarters. Marcel had helped him out of his clothes and then left to get some rest, too. Marco was tired, but sleep just wouldn’t come. He was staring at the ceiling, until he finally climbed out of bed, pulled an armchair next to the window and looked out at the night sky.

He had never seen so many stars. Dortmund’s city lights covered all of them, and now he took in the sight in awe. However, these stars didn’t resemble the constellations he knew about. For a few minutes, he entertained himself with trying to find different kinds of forms on the sky, but he got bored with it pretty quickly.

It was then that the prince gave a sign of himself. He filled Marco’s mind with his own thoughts and gave the blond footballer a chance to look at them. The experience wasn’t as frightening as it used to be. Somehow, Marco felt like the prince now considered him an ally rather than an intruder. He could see memories of the prince with Mario and he was touched by the affection these two shared. Looking at those images, Marco had a hard time believing that he was looking at the same prince whom others considered so awful. The man he saw was full of love and caring, someone who could become the perfect ruler of his folk.

When the images stopped, Marco waited for the prince to retreat, but it happened only after a big question mark appeared in Marco’s mind. The blond was startled and he didn’t know what was going on. Could it be that the prince wanted to communicate with him? Was he interested in Marco’s life? But, he could read Marco’s memories when he was in charge, couldn’t he? Marco had no idea how this magic thing worked, but maybe the prince needed his explicit permission to do that. And he had no idea how to give it. But, he closed his eyes nonetheless, imagined the prince sitting next to him and he started to show moments of his life to him as if they were photos in an album.

 

Prince Marco hadn’t understood what had happened to him. All he knew that one morning, after he had ridden into the woods with his love, he had woken up with someone else controlling his body. He struggled wildly to break free from this spell, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t succeed. After some time, he found out that he could get back control for a split second. Then, the time grew longer and now he had no problem taking over for a few seconds.

His opinion on this strange being who had kidnapped his body had changed for the better, as well. He had felt familiar right at the start, and the prince had found out with a troubling realization that this person was another version of him, from another world. A much weaker and more miserable version. This Marco was ridiculous most of the time. He pretended to know everything about life, while he didn’t explore what was going on inside him. He had no idea what he really felt. Maybe he was too afraid of what he would find in his heart to ever look there.

It was intriguing. The prince had always had a curiosity for different cultures, and he was interested in what life was like in the world this strange Marco had come from. That’s why he had come up with this idea of speaking with him in a way.

The images he now saw reassured him in his previous assumptions. How could this Marco consider himself a mature and serious man if he spent most of his time chasing a ball? And what good was it to do it in a group? Apparently, it had to be entertaining, because thousands and thousands of people watched them and they didn’t seem to be bored with it at all. But it wasn’t what the prince was interested in. When the other Marco ended his stream of memories, the prince pushed himself into the forefront again and lit up an image of Mario in similar clothes Marco wore when he did this strange exercise.

The answer came right away. He saw Marco and Mario chasing the ball together, hugging when it ended up in the middle of a net, cheering and shouting together in joy. It warmed the prince’s heart. It looked like Mario and he were together in this other world, as well. But then, the images kept coming and the color of Mario’s clothes changed and the relationship between their counterparts in the other world became colder.

There was another question troubling the prince and he had asked it with a final picture. It was their first kiss, in the shadows of a pillar in the great hall. There was silence from the other Marco’s part, but then, he shook his head. The prince didn’t know why he felt sad all of a sudden. To him, being with Mario was so natural, and knowing that another version of him could be close to the brunet, too, and yet not doing it puzzled him. If two men loved each other, why didn’t they just do?

Of course, he had a good idea about the explanation, and a loud voice in his head supported it. _It isn’t that simple_. It was the other Marco talking, but it sounded exactly like the prince’s voice and it caused a big conflict in him.

These were the same words his Mario had told him when he admitted his love for him. Mario had said that they couldn’t be each other’s. Everyone had told them the same, Marco’s own father had even tried to separate them. And yet, Marco couldn’t have cared less. Some might call him selfish for it, but first of all, he considered his own happiness, and he knew that he could really be happy only by Mario’s side. Everyone kept telling him it was a bad idea. They weren’t so direct about it, he was their prince, after all, but the message was clear. For the sake of the realm, he had to stop seeing Mario, the only man he had ever loved. And Prince Marco didn’t want to hear about it. Mario was his, and he was Mario’s, and nothing would ever change that. He would cling onto him, even if it meant letting his father down, letting the entire kingdom down, or causing chaos. The people had never considered his needs and happiness, why would he do it for them?

Sure, this other Marco had given him a lot of lessons in the last few days about the responsibilities he seemed to understand better than the prince had ever done. But, he also knew less about the importance of other things in life, and the prince was determined to return the favor. He was going to show this dense Marco that only love was worth fighting for.


	22. Inquiries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update comes a bit late, but real life has been quite demanding in the last few days, but I still wanted to post the new chapter on time. I hope you will like it, please share your thoughts, I can't tell you how much it means to me. :-)

“I see you are an early riser, Lord Advisor!” The voice Mats wanted to hear the least greeted him when he entered the great hall. The Höwedes banner and crest were gone from the walls, giving way to those of the royal family of Bachiano. There was the red weasel of King Pep’s family holding a golden crown in its mouth on a green field.

“Still not quite like you, Lady Höwedes.” He forced a smile on his face as he sat down on the furthest possible chair from her.

“And I see you haven’t taken the prince’s advice from yesterday.” She grinned at him. Mats frowned as he tried to figure out what she meant. The lady saw it and helped him out. “The boy. I see he is serving you again. At least, you don’t consider him worthy enough to dine with you.”

“I have already eaten, My Lady.” Mario stammered while filling Mats’s glass with fresh water. He never drank wine before sunset.

“And I’m sure it was as delicious as the ham your lord is about to eat.” She snickered and stood up. A servant rushed over to her and pulled her chair back so she could leave the table. “Thank you. Now go to the kitchen and fetch me some cakes.”

“My Lady, the chef said no cakes today. Because of the funeral, you know.” The servant mumbled, keeping his eyes away from the lady.

“Then tell your chef that he will cook what Lady Höwedes wishes to eat, and right now, I want lemon cake. Hurry! I want to have it before I get the opportunity to say goodbye to my late husband in front of half of the kingdom!” She scolded him and the servant rushed away. A dozen others entered, carrying soft garments of the color of the two royal families and they started to decorate the hall with them. Mats wouldn’t have minded them any other day; he was used to eating with others working around him, but this time, the sounds of something big being prepared annoyed him.

“Can’t you wait with it until the end of the funeral?” He snapped. All the servants looked sheepishly at him, and Lady Höwedes stopped on her way towards her quarters. She turned around and cast him a glance that didn’t tell Mats what she thought of him that moment. She looked surprised by his honest reaction, but Mats was no fool. He knew that he hadn’t bought her appreciation just with that. “We have to bury Lord Höwedes first, we have nothing to celebrate until then. Not even a royal proposal!” He snarled. The servants bowed, put the garments carefully on a table and then left. Lady Höwedes looked at Mats for another second, but then continued on her way completely unimpressed.

Mats sighed and put a few slices of ham and bread on his plate. He wasn’t hungry. He hadn’t slept well, thinking about Benni and what was in front of him. In front of _them_. The blond’s confession on the top of the Höwedes castle’s tower complicated things. Mats had known that Benni loved him, it wasn’t that, but all of a sudden, it felt real. They had never given voice to their feelings, fearing exactly the situation they had found themselves in. Their minds didn’t want to believe their heart that told them there had to be a way to each other.

He wasn’t left alone with his thoughts for long. Sir Lewandowski entered the hall and he headed right his way. It was clear that the First Knight hadn’t slept much, either. His eyes were sunken, but the amazing thing was that despite his fatigue, he still walked with a straight back and so much grace. Besides being responsible for the king’s safety, he also represented all of King Jürgen’s knights and he couldn’t look shaken or wrung out, no matter what.

“May I join you, Lord Advisor?” He asked him, and sat down after Mats’s faint nod.

“Have you been up all night, First Knight?” The raven-haired inquired.

“Yes.” Robert sighed. He reached for the wine and poured a cup of it for himself. “We’ve been searching for Kirch all night long and making sure that there would be no attack at the funeral or at the proposal.”

“I know you have done a great job, and I know I am safe with you and your people watching over us.” Mats smiled at him. It was meant as a reassurance, but he didn’t quite succeed. The knight swallowed down the wine with one huge gulp and shook his head.

“I wish it was like that, Mats. But I can’t guarantee your safety. Not anymore. We have nothing.” He admitted his defeat. “There seems to be a conspiracy, but we don’t know who’s involved and whom we can trust. I failed the king. I put everything on catching the Black Knight after the tournament, and we didn’t do it.”

“This isn’t a failure, Robert!” Mats turned to him. He had lost all his appetite. “You did your best, but sometimes, it simply isn’t enough.”

“But it should be!” The older man slammed the cup on the table. “Who should protect you if not me?”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Robert.” Mats warned him. “And don’t give up. Have you talked to Marco? Maybe he knows something. After all, he had asked Kirch to protect him.”

“No, the king told me not to trouble the prince. He wanted to talk to him himself, but he hadn’t gotten any information from him. We are clueless and defenseless against another attack.”

“There will be no other attack.” Mats said firmly. “You will do a fine job and protect your king and prince. The realm’s finest swordsmen are in the capital, no one can get close to the king without you stopping him. I know that for sure.”

“Sir Lewandowski!” A guard ran into the hall. He was out of breath and his face was redder than a tomato.

“Not now, Kevin!” Robert waved him away. “Can’t you see the Lord Advisor is eating?”

“It’s okay, Robert.” Mats smiled and he turned to the guard. “What is it?”

“We have found Kirch.” The guard croaked out between two deep breaths. “In a tavern outside the city. He was rather _tired_ , but we brought him to his senses.”

“What are you waiting for?” Robert snapped. “Bring him in!” He gave out the order.

He was his usual self again. Full of power and determination. Mats had always been amazed about this man. Many considered him too young for such an important position, but he had qualities not many could offer. He was intelligent and the best fighter in the kingdom. He also was a natural leader and Mats wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his life.

Robert reached for water this time, as if he was ashamed about his moment of weakness. He drank two cups of the cold liquid and wiped his mouth. He stood up and started to pace up and down in the hall. Mats could almost hear the gears turning in his brain. Robert went over all the possibilities that came to his mind, getting prepared for each of them. In the world they were living, they always had to be one step ahead of their adversaries if they wanted to survive, and the conspirators had already had a good advantage on them.

“Mario,” Mats turned to his servant. The brunet jerked his head up. He had been almost invisible ever since they had come to the hall. It was a great thing for a servant, but unnatural of the young man Mats knew him to be. The prince’s lover was different. He would show himself all the time, would seek the center of attention and not hide in the background. “Go and find Marco. Tell him to get here as quickly as he can!” He said and the brunet nodded obediently and rushed away. No wonder, he was clearly still looking forward to each encounter with the prince. Some things never changed.

The blond knight was brought before Mats and Robert a minute later. His clothes were dirty and rumpled, his hair tousled and there were lines on his cheeks where he had slept on his hand. He didn’t resemble a knight of His Highness the least, but Mats could understand him. Losing a tournament in the final was nothing to be proud of. The common folk didn’t forget who had been defeated in the last duel; in a way, it was still better to get knocked out of the saddle right at the beginning.

“Kirch!” Robert called out to him when the unlikely group of guards stopped in front of the First Knight. “Do you know why you are here?”

“No, Sir!” The blond mumbled. His voice was distorted by alcohol. He had definitely tried to find a way to forget his shame.

“We understand that the prince had asked you to protect him after the tournament–” Robert started, and before he could finish, Kirch started a rant.

“Oh, that! I am deeply sorry about that, Sir. I thought that after the lost final I was not needed in the castle anymore. If I had known that the prince still counted on me, I would have turned up.” He explained himself. “Now look at me! I look completely unacceptable. Pray, give me a few minutes, and I will set my clothes right.”

“Silence!” Robert raised his voice and even Mats’s heart missed a beat because of the authority the short-haired knight was radiating. “I couldn’t care less about where you have spent the night or what you have done. All I want to know is what you were supposed to protect the prince from. Tell me, and you can go.”

 

* * *

 

Mario knew the way to Marco’s chambers by heart. He felt it was extremely important for him, because he could feel safe only in the blond’s quarters, so he learned by heart how to get there, in case he ever needed to find a refuge from a threat he couldn’t defend himself against. Now he took the turns confidently, knowing instinctively which corridor to take and which stairs to climb. He arrived at his destination in a couple of minutes, but as he got closer to the door leading to Marco’s chambers, two guards crossed his way.

“You can’t go in there! It’s the order of the First Knight!” One of them snapped sternly. His face was completely impassive, but it was obvious from even one look that he would attack Mario if the brunet didn’t back down very soon. Mario considered his life too dear to object, so he took a step back and looked down at his feet sheepishly.

“The Lord Advisor sent me. The First Knight was also there. I need to give the prince a message.” Mario explained.

“You can’t go in there!” The guard repeated. “You can tell us the message and we will share it with the prince.”

Mario almost blurted out what he was supposed to tell Marco, but in the last minute, he closed his mouth. He remembered Robert’s despair and how he had admitted that he couldn’t guarantee the royal family’s safety anymore. This wasn’t Germany. Traitors could be found anywhere and Mario couldn’t risk ruining their chances of ever revealing this conspiracy and getting home with Marco. If someone wanted to kill the king and then Mats, maybe Marco was their next target, and Mario wasn’t sure if his friend would simply wake up on their yacht and he didn’t even want to find out this way.

“I was told to talk to the prince and no one else.” Mario said, finding the last shreds of bravery in himself. Ever since they had woken up here, his brave moments had only gotten him into trouble, but he couldn’t falter this time. He had to act along and fulfill the role of an obedient servant. Otherwise he could lose Mats’s favor and find himself in the stables again and he definitely didn’t want that.

This time, luck was on his side, because before the guard could send him away, Marco opened the door. “What the hell is going on here?” He snapped.

“My prince,” the guard bowed. “This servant wants to talk with you.” He pointed at Mario, and the blond’s features brightened up.

“Well, let him in!” He disappeared from the doorway and Mario stepped forward joyfully. He walked into Marco’s chambers with his head held high and he couldn’t help but shot a self-satisfied look at the guard. The other man fumed, but he couldn’t do anything to stop him.

“Is anything wrong?” Marco rushed over to Mario as soon as the brunet closed the door behind him. Mario had never seen him this concerned. His hands darted up towards the brunet’s face as if he wanted to cup them, but he stopped the movement in the last moment and concealed it with a rather lame rubbing of the back of his head.

“No, I’m fine.” Mario shook his head. “Mats sent me. It seems like they found Olli, although I have no idea why they searched for him, and Mats wants you to go into the great hall.”

“Oh, shit!” Marco cursed and buried his face in his hand.

“What’s wrong? What does it mean?” Mario blinked in confusion. “What have I missed?”

“Okay, so here’s the short explanation: the real Prince Marco has chosen Olli to be his champion at the jousting tournament. He most probably has bribed his champion’s way to the final, but this Black Knight has crossed his plans. It’s not really important anyways. The point is that the prince has also asked Olli to be his bodyguard after the tournament. Kloppo, Mats and Robert think that it’s because he suspected something about this conspiracy or at least felt his life threatened. Kloppo asked me about this yesterday, but I managed to avoid answering. I guess I won’t be this lucky today.” Marco said so quickly that Mario had trouble separating the words.

“Wait!” Mario frowned. “If it was the real prince, you don’t know anything about this, right? I mean, you can’t help them.”

“Exactly!” Marco cried out and then sighed. He shook his head as if he didn’t know what to do. Mario would have liked to help him, but the truth was the he was out of ideas, too. “Although…” Marco drawled. “There might be a way to find the answer.” He looked at Mario with an expression that didn’t predict anything good.

“What are you thinking of?” Mario asked, half-suspecting the answer. That’s exactly why he was afraid of it.

“I could ask the real prince. I could give him control over my body willingly.” Marco said.

“No, you can’t do that!” Mario cried out. His heart beat faster immediately as he thought of the things that could happen to Marco if his plan didn’t work out. “What if he won’t give back the control? Marco, this is too dangerous!”

“It won’t be, if you are here to look after me.” The blond said and leaned back in his recliner, closing his eyes. Mario realized that he couldn’t do anything to stop him.


	23. The First Clue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's taken me a rather long time to update this story, but I needed a little break from my WIPs, and I had a lot of time to think about how to go on with them. Now I have a clear image for the rest of this story. I have no idea how long it will take me to write it, how many more chapters there will be, but I know the main plot points and hopefully you will bear with me. I'll do my very best to return to two updates per a week, and also post in my other WIPs. Please, enjoy this chapter, and as always, let me know what you think of it. :-)

Mario was sitting on the edge of his seat and was having a hard time not to spring up and shake Marco. His nerves were strained to their limit and he feared that the next moment something would snap and he would collapse or have a breakdown. The only thing worse than the waiting was the uncertainty. Marco had said that he felt safe with Mario next to him to help him if it was needed, but honestly, the brunet had no idea if he should intervene. Marco looked like he was in a peaceful slumber. There even was a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A smile that soon vanished and the blond frowned. Mario hauled himself off, but a doubt stopped him.

Maybe it really was their only chance to find out something about what was being planned against the royal family. Maybe they could learn what they needed to do to get home only this way. Mario couldn’t wake up Marco now. The blond would most certainly be angry at him if he stopped him before he could get every information out of the prince. But then, how long would it take? When would the time come when Mario could say _yes, I can wake up Marco_? He wished that time would come already, or even better, if Marco came back to his senses on his own. So far, nothing horrible had happened when their counterparts had taken over, but there was no guarantee that it would stay that way. Maybe the prince had seen his chance and robbed Marco’s body. Or reconquered it or whatever.

Marco now moved. It was an involuntary twitch in his shoulders, but Mario noticed it immediately. Something wasn’t right, he was sure about that. He stood up and took a faltering step forward. He reached out his hand and only then he noticed that it was shaking. He couldn’t lose Marco. He couldn’t stay alone. Not in this world and not in his life, no matter if he got home or not. He needed the blond, and he hadn’t realized it this clearly before. He rushed over to his friend, crouched down next to him and put his hand on Marco’s. He gently stroked over the pale skin with his thumb, but there was no reaction from the older one whatsoever.

Mario panicked.

 

* * *

 

_Marco had no idea where he was apart from the fact that it was one of the prince’s memories. The huge castle in front of him was a bit like the combination of Camp Nou and the Allianz Arena. It wasn’t in the kingdom where King Jürgen ruled, that much was clear. Based on what Marco had learned about this world, this had to be Bachiano, or whatever King Pep’s home was called._

_He wasn’t alone. Robert was standing next to him, although he looked a little bit younger. Just a little bit, and Marco wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t known the dark-haired man so well. This memory had to be at most half a year old. Maybe they had visited the other kingdom to agree with King Pep on the marriage?_

_The memory left out the part about them getting into the castle. They jumped to another moment, later that day, when everyone was sitting in the castle’s great hall. Marco vaguely recognized those men: in his world, they worked at Bayern. But the prince didn’t share only his memory, but also his feelings and it was clear that he didn’t feel good among those people. For once, a beautiful princess was sitting on his right, which wouldn’t have been such a horrible thing if he hadn’t been committed to live his life with Mario, and on the other hand, everyone around him looked menacingly._

_He had left the comfort and safety of his own home to come here, into this strange land with lords he did not know, and it felt much like a lion’s lair. Robert was sitting on his left, and he seemed as tense as the prince was. He cast distrusting glances to everyone sitting at the table with them, as if he was looking for a source of danger. It was a horrible scene and Marco realized that he didn’t want to be a prince at all. It didn’t consist of only pleasant things and servants doing the job for him he wasn’t in the mood for. Being a prince came with a lot of unpleasantness and he didn’t want to have any of it, thank you very much._

_Pep was sitting on the other side of the princess. He was busy talking to one of his lords and as Marco watched them, he caught the attentive glance of another lord. He was sitting almost at the end of the table, his seat telling a lot about his importance in the royal court, or rather about the lack of it. His features reminded Marco of someone, but he couldn’t remember whom. The man’s intense gaze sent shivers down his spine and he quickly turned to the only man he felt comfortable around. Robert pretended to listen to whatever the prince was telling him, but in the meantime, his eyes skimmed over the table and rested on the lord who had been gazing at Marco. He frowned and put his hand just a bit closer to his sword he hadn’t let anyone take away from him._

_In his final despair, Marco looked at the princess. His suspicions had been right, the beautiful young lady sitting next to him was Cathy, Mats’s Cathy, although she wore much more pompous clothes than the woman Marco knew. She smiled at him weakly and quickly returned to staring into her plate._

_Suddenly, a strange music started to play and everyone started to sing. They mentioned places Marco didn’t know about, but he felt the prince’s anger rise higher with each new line being sung. The feel of the song reminded Marco of the chants of the oppositions’ fans during a football game and he guessed that the lords around the table were singing about a glorious victory of their forefathers over the prince’s home. His suspicion was proven right the next moment when Robert leaned over to him and started to whisper into his ears._

_“All those great battles, they sing about.” He snorted. “I bet they won’t mention how your great-grandfather rebelled against their rule and routed them out of our lands. After that, their once glorious and pride army was dismantled and just a shadow of its past self, and their kingdom an insignificant patch on the map. I’m sure that these nice lords would like to have those old years back.”_

_“Can’t we go, Sire?” The prince asked. “I am in no mood to waste another second of my life on these men, and I suppose you agree with me completely on that.”_

_“I do, My Prince, but I’m afraid the protocol binds you here.” Robert sighed. “And my oath to protect you binds me to your side, so we will have to stay until the end of the dinner. You might want to use it wisely and get to know your future fiancée just a bit better.”_

_“You know very well what I think of this marriage!” The prince snapped, still managing to keep his voice down somehow. “I wouldn’t be here if my father hadn’t–”_

_“But you_ are _here.” Robert reminded him of his duty. “And you will do what your father and your land demands you to do.”_

_The scenery changed again, and the prince was in his quarters. There was a huge bed in his room, but he was standing right next to the window, staring at the dark landscape, thinking of home. This was a foreign land, he didn’t feel good here and he would never be able to call it his home. He couldn’t even sleep calmly here. He started off towards the huge wooden door and opened it._

_He heard Robert’s snoring from the adjoining room, but it ceased as soon as he entered the chamber. His protector was only pretending to sleep, his hand resting on the grip of his sword, ready to defend his prince at the cost of his life, if needed. Marco very much hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. He appreciated the knight’s devotion, but at the same time, his wakefulness was a complication he didn’t need. He had hoped to be able to sneak out of his quarters and find a quieter place when his thoughts could take him back to Bay Town and into the loving arms of his Mario. Now all that hope was gone._

_But to his surprise, the knight didn’t say a thing. The prince could feel his eyes following him, but he didn’t try to stop him. At the door opening into the cold corridor, he met two other guards. They were his own guards, men Robert trusted. They bowed and looked at him curiously, but they didn’t follow him. Marco didn’t want to go far, mostly because he had no idea where he was and he didn’t want to wander away and not find the way back. Although, thinking about it, Robert would most probably follow him from a distance big enough to grant him some privacy, but not too big to stop him from intervening if it would be needed._

_The prince walked right next to the wall, staying in the shadows as much as possible, and halting at every little sound. He didn’t want to be noticed, and the castle was full of drunken lords trying to find the way to their quarters. Some of them were satisfied with a dark corner, the prince met one of them, but he was too quiet to wake him up. The lord’s snoring drowned out the sound of his steps. It looked like God had taken his side and would give him some time alone._

_His heart almost stopped when he heard steps approaching him. He heard voices, too, and he had just enough time to hide behind a spur before two lords turned round the corner. They were sober and their words frightened the prince._

_“Everything is going according to plan, it seems.” One of the whispered._

_“It does.” The other one agreed. “I can’t believe the king hasn’t noticed anything of it. It is so obvious.”_

_“Do you think the prince might suspect something?” The first one was startled._

_“No.” The raspy voice of the second conspirator laughed. “He is too dense to notice anything. The Gods have been gracious and they gave him his father’s wits, which are practically non-existent. King Jürgen will give us his son and play his kingdom into our hands again, and then, the great old kingdom will be restored. Marco will give us an heir, and he will fulfill his role in our plan. A minor, but still important one.”_

_“What about the First Knight?”_

_“You are afraid of the First Knight? You don’t have to. He wants the best for his kingdom, and he knows that it isn’t Marco. My little birds in Bay Town tell me that he’s doing his best to get that bastard on the throne. The king is stupid enough to listen to him.”_

_“That’s disturbing. If he will be named the heir, our claim to Dortehan’s throne will be–”_

_“It’s already taken care of.” The first man calmed down his partner. “In fact, the princess won’t get married to Dortehan’s prince. I’ve spoken to the Master of the Old Order. He reassured me of their loyalty and support. One of the brothers is on his way to Dortehan. There will be a jousting tournament and the winner will see the king in private. He will get close to King Jürgen. Well, within the reach of a sword, if you know what I mean. Dortehan will soon have a new king, and Princess Cathy will marry him.”_

 

* * *

 

“Marco! Marco! Wake up! Please, you cannot do this to me!”

Mario’s distorted voice came in the middle of an earthquake. The prince drew back into the back of Marco’s mind and his own personality started to fill him again. It was a slow return after so much time spent in the role of the observer. He opened his eyes and realized that the earth wasn’t shaking. It was Mario shaking him, trying to bring him to his senses again.

The blond’s voice was dry. He couldn’t talk, even though he wanted to reassure his friend that everything was fine. Mario seemed to be completely freaked out and he didn’t stop shaking him, although it should have been quite obvious by now that Marco was back from the prince’s memories. He reached for the cup standing on the table, but he felt dizzy when he moved and he collapsed on the recliner again. Mario caught his eyes and noticed what he was looking at. He finally let go of him and handed him his cup. Marco took careful sips and took long breaks between them, giving himself time to compose himself. Mario did the same, and it was only after Marco’s color returned that he started to rebuke him rather passionately.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again, do you understand!” He shouted and he slapped Marco.

It was nothing powerful, but it still shocked the blond. He didn’t understand why Mario was so upset. This was their only way of learning something that could help them, didn’t the younger one see it?

“Okay, okay, calm down.” Marco raised his hands defensively. “I think I know what’s going on here, Mario. I don’t know why the prince hadn’t told it to Kloppo yet, this is something big!” He said passionately.

“Great.” Mario groused. “Then let’s get going and share those exciting developments with Mats and Robert!”

Just like that, the brunet walked away from him and towards the door. He already put his hand on the handle when Marco thought that he understood his reaction and stopped him with an innocent but tough question.

“Wait! Not that I’m angry that you slapped me or anything, but what happened? Did the other Mario take over?” He uttered the only logical explanation he could come up with.

“No.” Mario rolled his eyes. “It was me.”

“Then why?” Marco blinked, confused.

“Because I care about you, you idiot!” Mario shouted. “You didn’t respond for at least three minutes. Then, I started to shake you, but still nothing. Do you have an idea what I’ve been through? You are the only one who cares about me, Marco, the only one who sees me for the person I really am, and the thought of me losing you is impossible to bear.” He said and he disappeared behind the door. Marco was left alone with his thoughts and they only made him more confused.

He had the feeling that his friend wasn’t talking about only this alternate world.


	24. An Explanation of a Sort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could keep my promise, so here I am with the next update. :-) I hope that you will like it, please let me know if it is so, and if you didn't like it, don't hesitate to tell me why it was so. I want to write the best story I can, and your feedback helps me to do that. :-)

Mario rushed through the corridors and Marco had a hard time following him. He wanted to talk to the brunet, to apologize and to explain himself. He knew that he had touched a sore spot in Mario’s life, a place that he maybe shouldn’t have troubled. He couldn’t quite define what it was, but he could relate to his friend’s feelings. Even he had thoughts he wanted to keep secret from everyone, and something told him that he skimmed something similar in Mario’s soul. But the shorter one turned his back on him and ran as fast as he could, Marco running after him and his guards following them. He didn’t need any more clues: Mario didn’t want to talk to him. Not now.

They ran down a slippery staircase and Marco had to be very careful not to fall. Rolling down the hard stone wasn’t the entry he had envisioned for himself. When they arrived at the great hall’s door, Mario burst into the huge chamber and rushed over to Mats, refilling his cup again, as if he was only a loyal servant caring about his lord’s needs.

It hurt Marco, but at the same time, he realized that they might have been better off that way. After all, if his friend needed some time alone to compose his thoughts and understand the changes going on in him, it was much wiser to give him that moment of privacy and hope that they could sit down and talk later. If they could. In this world, Marco couldn’t rely on finding some time alone with Mario. They had to keep up their pretenses. It was a complicated situation already, and Mario’s strange reaction didn’t make their lives any easier.

For a moment, a strange thought crossed Marco’s mind. What if Mario was actually having the same thoughts as he had? What if the brunet felt more than friendship towards him? What if he feared that if he admitted that feeling, they would be in big trouble? At least, that’s how Marco thought about the strange emotions he felt for Mario. He didn’t love the brunet, or at least, he had never thought about him that way. He desired him, he wanted to share with him a bigger intimacy. But even if it was so and supposing that Mario felt the same way, what chance did they have? He could get closer to Mario here, it wasn’t impossible. But, they had to think of their lives after they would get home, because Marco was sure that he wanted to get home.

But, they were still far from there, and they wouldn’t get any closer to the way back if they didn’t do anything about it. The talk awaiting him in the great hall could be the first step in the right direction. He took a deep breath and readied himself. He had some of the answers from the prince, but he wasn’t sure how much he could reveal. If he said too little, no one would believe him, but if he said too much, there would be too many questions, or he could blurt out something that shouldn’t get into the ears in the hall. The prince hadn’t talked to anyone for a reason, not even to Robert, as it seemed.

“Marco! Would you mind joining us?” The First Knight now stood up. “You may leave us alone.” He nodded at the guards and the servants who rushed out as quickly as they could. Mario hung his head low and started off towards the small door on the side wall.

“Wait!” Marco spoke up. “I want Mario to hear it, too.”

Robert shot him a questioning glance, but he nodded after a moment of consideration. The brunet showed him an expression that was hard to interpret. He stopped, turned around and stood behind Mats. Not behind Marco. The message was clear and Marco received it.

“Great, now we might start focusing on more important things. His Grace unfortunately isn’t here, but I think we will do just fine in his absence, and I will see to him being properly counselled.” Robert clapped his hands together. He didn’t want to waste any more time, he must have felt that they had already waited too long. “Sir Kirch told us some interesting things, and we would like to hear your view, My Prince! If it isn’t too much to ask for.”

“Not at all.” Marco smiled amused. Robert was sticking to the protocol, so he was going to play along. “But before we do that, I’d like to ask you if I am the one being interrogated here.” He inquired. Robert’s reaction was so worth it. He paled and Marco could almost hear his stomach clench into a tight knot.

“Of course not, My Prince!” He stammered. “I apologize if I–”

“You didn’t offend me, First Knight, not the least.” Marco sighed. He felt as if the real prince was suggesting what he had to say somewhere in him, and he formed the words for him. “But, I think it is only fair if I get the chance to hear out what Kirch has to tell us before I share my knowledge. Don’t you agree?”

“Certainly, My Prince.” Robert nodded so vehemently that Marco had a hard time not to laugh.

“Then, Kirch, if you will…” He turned to the blond knight, and it was his time to pale.

“My Prince, I am deeply sorry for letting you down in the tournament. I know that I should have done much better, being your champion, but that Black Knight used tricks on me! It wasn’t a fair fight and he didn’t behave like a knight at all!” Olli explained accusingly and Robert shot him a cutting glance.

“Neither do you, Sir!” He snapped. “Your Prince has asked you a question. It’s enough of your excuses! We want to hear everything you have to tell us!”

“Yes, First Knight!” Olli gulped. “After the tournament, I was supposed to stay here and protect the prince. He has asked me to be his personal guard until his wedding. It was the greatest honor for me, and I would have accepted his generous offer even if it was meant to last longer. But, he reassured me that there would be no need for my services after the wedding. Please, My Prince, forgive me for not sticking to my oath, but after I lost at the tournament, I thought that you didn’t count on my services any longer. If I had known–”

“You should have!” Marco said sternly. He would never have talked this way with Olli, or anyone else from his teammates, but his role as a prince dictated him that. “You will stay here, though, from now on!”

“Of course, My Prince! Thank you!” Olli bowed.

“And a final little test,” Marco smiled wryly. “Just to make sure that you paid attention when I talked to you: who exactly you were supposed to protect me from?”

Marco knew the answer to that question, but he was curious what the official answer was. He had to trust the prince. If he had thought it unwise to mention names, he wasn’t going to fall into that mistake. Maybe it would only be a death sentence on him. Olli looked confused, and he measure Marco carefully. He sensed the trap and he didn’t know what to say.

“The truth.” Marco answered his silent question.

“You haven’t told me that, My Prince.” The knight shook his head. “Don’t you remember? You said that I had to be wary of everyone and couldn’t let anyone get closer to you than a sword’s length.”

“That’s right, Sir. Thank you.” Marco nodded. It was good to know what the prince thought of his situation. It wasn’t very reassuring, but it was something, and Marco would rather expect the worst and then be relieved than underestimate the threat he had to face. Mario eyed him suspiciously, musing about what kind of game he was playing. “Go fetch some more suitable clothes and get your armor!”

“Immediately, My Prince! Thank you, My Prince!” Olli backed out of the room with many bows.

“We are still waiting for your explanation, My Prince.” Robert raised an eyebrow when the door was closed.

“I don’t like this tone, First Knight!” Marco stood up. Everyone in the court had treated the prince unfairly and he was going to show them that. “Have you invited me to your council? I don’t recall it. And now, I have to tell you everything I know?”

“For the good of the realm…” Robert hastened to say, but Marco stopped him.

“Tell me, Robert, do you consider me just a puppet? Someone you can get out when you need him and then toss me back into a box for later? Because I don’t think you treat me like you should treat your prince.” Marco stepped closer to the knight. The dark-haired man held his stare and tension sparkled between them in small electrical jolts.

“It is the king you have to talk about that, and not me.” Robert frowned.

“Oh, have you spoken up for my sake, then?” Marco smirked.

“Stop that!” Mats sprang up and snapped at them. They both jerked their heads the tall man’s way. “We have a problem to solve and we won’t get anywhere with pointing fingers at each other! Marco, stop playing the hurt prince, and Robert, give more respect! Let’s just get done with this! We all want to find out what’s going on, so stop this nonsense and talk!”

“You are completely right, Lord Advisor.” Robert nodded and he turned towards Marco. “I apologize for my behavior. It must be the tiredness talking from me.”

“It’s alright, Robert.” Marco smiled at him. “Our kingdom faces a threat; that is true. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you who the menace is, I do not know that. But, we have to get ready for the worst.”

“Where do you know all that, and why haven’t you told it anyone?” Mats asked.

“First Knight, do you remember our visit to Bachiano?” Marco looked at the knight again, and he nodded. “I caught a few unsettling looks there.”

“This is ridiculous!” Mats snapped. “I get it, you are not very fond of this marriage, but to come up with something like this just to stop the proceedings, that’s below you, Marco!”

“And now you know why I haven’t told it to anyone.” Marco reprimanded his brother. He finally realized the reason behind the prince’s silence. “I don’t think that King Pep knows about it. But, his lords are getting more and more power, and they don’t want to stop.”

“If you imply that some of the lords are plotting against us…” Robert started. “I don’t think they are. I remember that visit quite well, it was distressing, just like you described it. I remember how Lord Hummels stared at you, but your theory doesn’t explain anything. The planned attack on the king, the assassin sent to end the Lord Advisor’s life… Why would they bother with that if they could get the throne after some time? You would become both Dortehan’s and Bachiano’s king.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Mario spoke up, and everyone turned towards him. Robert seemed to feel offended for being interrupted by a servant, and Mats looked equally perplexed. “Doesn’t Kloppo, I mean His Highness want to make the Lord Advisor the heir?” He asked and Marco saw where he was going with that. “If it comes through, the prince will lose his claim on the throne. But, if King Jürgen dies before he can do that, or there would be no other option for him apart from the prince, then everything would go the conspirators’ way.”

“It makes sense.” Marco nodded and smiled at his friend. Mario rested his eyes just a second longer on him than before, and it calmed him down. The brunet wasn’t that mad at him, not anymore.

“No, it does not.” The First Knight shook his head. Marco rolled his eyes. _Believe me, you stupid dumbass,_ he groused. If only he could tell Robert everything he knew, but it wasn’t really possible. “It explains some things, but not everything. What about the fact that the Black Knight had a sword of justice? The Old Order was disbanded decades ago. How come one of their swords appears suddenly?”

“They were disbanded, but maybe they didn’t cease to exist.” Mats noted musingly.

“What? Do you think they fled to Bachiano, founded their order again and started recruiting? Mats, this is ridiculous! Bachiano’s lords are honorable men, I won’t believe any–”

“You yourself said that most of them would surely love to see their kingdom great again!” Marco snapped. He had enough of it. What was Robert doing? Maybe he was blinded by his title, and thought that everyone was as noble and knight-like as he was, but it simply wasn’t true. Why couldn’t he see it? Did it really take eyes from another world?

“I did that at the heat of the moment. I didn’t feel myself well in their castle, and I spoke without meaning it. I apologize if it made you think something like this, but we can’t afford to speculate without reason.” Robert tried to calm him down, although Marco was still ready to hit him, just to beat some sense into his brain.

“Robert, it might be a weak theory, but it’s the only one we have right now.” Mats sighed. “Or have you found out anything that contradicts what Marco has just said?” The First Knight glared at him and slowly shook his head. “Then we have to stick to this, for the time being. Many lords of Bachiano are going to come to the capital tomorrow. If our suspicion is true, and they are planning something, we have to be prepared. The king’s life might be in danger.”

“You don’t have to remind me of my duties, Lord Advisor.” Robert snarled. “I did everything in my power to protect the royal family, there’s no reason to be afraid. If you had listened to me on the night of Lord Höwedes’s death, and had waited until I found at least two guards for you, the attack on you wouldn’t have happened.” He shot Marco another, almost bored look. “But let’s suppose that you are right. Let’s believe that there is a second Old Order being formed in Bachiano, and that they are plotting with the lords to overthrow our king and seize power. Let’s say that the planned attack on the king and the Lord Advisor were targeted ones, and not just generally against members of the royal family. My only concern then is: how did they know about the king’s plan to make the Lord Advisor the heir?” He asked triumphantly, as if he had had royal flush in poker. “Because then, it means that we have a spy in the castle. As far as I know, only four or five people were supposed to know about it. His Grace, the prince, the Lord Advisor, Lord Höwedes and me. So if there is a spy in the castle, I would very much like to know how come Mario knows about it!” He turned towards the brunet, his hand reaching for his sword. The next moment, he drew it and pressed the blade against Mario’s neck.


	25. Up the Creek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks, I'm here with another update. I'm sorry that you had to wait so long, but real life didn't grant me much time to spend with my stories and I was focusing on my other works. Hopefully, I can update regularly from now on. Please, share your thoughts with me, as always, I'm curious about your opinion.

The blade was ice-cold, and yet, it was the dread creeping into Mario’s mind that made him freeze in his place. Ever since he had woken up in this fantasy world, the possibility of him getting into such a situation hand hung over his head, but he had always thought that a progression of events would lead to it and that he could get prepared for it. Instead, Robert drew his sword in the matter of seconds and now the sharp metal was pressing against the brunet’s chin.

He didn’t dare move, because the First Knight’s blade, the first one to be drawn when there was need to protect the kingdom, must have been kept in good state, and Mario was sure that even the slightest movement would cause a nasty cut on his neck. He didn’t even swallow; not that he had anything to swallow: his throat had gone dry when Robert had stepped closer to him.

And why did it have to be Robert? Mario would have taken this from anyone else so much easier. Why did it have to be his teammate, his friend? He knew very well that it wasn’t the same Robert facing him now. He didn’t have any friends in this world, apart from Marco, and lately, he had questioned the kind of support he could expect from the blond as well. He now looked at him begging, nonetheless. Marco was as shocked as he himself, but at least he had the chance to do something about this situation and Mario hoped that he would.

“This is crazy, Robert! Lower your sword!” The prince spoke up. It should have relieved Mario, but it didn’t. Marco was uncertain, he gave away his fright; this was no way to stop Robert from potentially killing him.

“Not until I have an explanation.” Robert said. In other circumstances, Mario would have surely admired his way of holding his sword. The blade impressed as a part of his arm. He held it firmly, it didn’t move the least bit. The way he pushed it against the brunet’s neck was elegant and menacing at the same time. Robert had the skills of a trained warrior, someone who had been taught to do this all his life.

“What explanation?” Marco snapped. “ _I_ have told Mario about the king’s plans! Satisfied?”

“Why did you do that?” Robert asked without taking his eyes off Mario.

“Because he is my friend and I trust him!” Marco almost whined. His voice broke and his whole body started to shake. _Come on, Marco, get your shit together_ , Mario thought to himself. _You must be a prince, you shouldn’t be afraid_. “Mats, say something!”

Mario now turned his eyes towards the other man in the room. Mats was sitting calmly in his chair, with the unimpressed face of someone who was used to this kind of thing. He now glanced at Marco, then at Mario, and finally at Robert, and sighed. He was thinking hard, and it took him a few seconds to speak up.

“Robert, even if Mario is a traitor as you might think now, there would have been plenty of other opportunities for him to carry out this plan.” He summed it up. Mario wasn’t sure if it was supposed to help him or not. It didn’t feel very convincing.

“Or maybe he was simply waiting for the right moment. Or orders.” Robert hissed.

“This is ridiculous!” Marco burst out. He finally behaved like a prince would. “Lower your sword, right now! I trust Mario completely. I know he isn’t the traitor you are looking for. Maybe you just want him to be the one, so you can relax and say that it wasn’t one of your men, but I guarantee you that Mario hadn’t blurted out the secrets of His Highness. I only talked to him about them the day of the tournament. The Lord Advisor had shared them with me a day earlier. I don’t have any idea how it had gotten out of the castle, but it certainly wasn’t through Mario!”

“He had had plenty of chances before that, serving in the castle. Maybe he overheard a conversation between the king and someone else, the deceased Lord Höwedes, most probably.” Robert tried, but he didn’t sound as sure anymore. His confidence in his theory was getting smaller and smaller.

“No, I did not! I’m not a spy!” Mario found his tongue again and stepped back. He knew that he was risking his life, but he couldn’t stand there with a blade against his throat any longer. “I want to help you to find out who the traitor is!”

“How noble of you!” Robert snorted. “Surely, being a servant would give you plenty of opportunities to be of help.”

“Actually, it would.” Mario retorted, encouraged by the fact that Robert had finally put away his sword, although the measuring and untrusting look was still there. “The princess arrives in our country tomorrow, right? I suppose the prince will go and welcome her?” He asked.

“That’s right. What are you suggesting?” Mats answered him.

“Erik is feeling better, I can go with the prince. He can offer my services for the noblemen from Bachiano, they surely don’t take as many servants as they really need. They must also share the views of the First Knight on servants, so maybe they won’t be careful about what they say in front of me. I could listen to them and get some clues we can use to figure out who is behind this conspiracy.” He tried to sound as determined as he could, although it wasn’t easy. His plan wasn’t met with enthusiasm at all. Robert looked at him almost offended that he had dared to come up with something this ridiculous, an amused smile appeared on Mats’s face, and Marco looked horror-struck.

“Yes, and since we have suspected you of treason, we will do everything exactly the way you propose.” Robert hissed.

“It was only you who considered me a traitor.” Mario pointed out. He was too cheeky, and the knight’s eyes sent out sparks, but Mario met his look. He had enough of being treated unfairly. He knew as much as the others in the room, maybe even more in a way.

“Watch your tongue, Götze, or you might lose it very easily.” Robert snarled and reached for his sword again.

That moment, the doors of the great hall were opened and the king walked in. He wore shiny armor and every movement of his radiated elegance. Mario had never seen Klopp this way, but the sight impressed him. His former coach looked so authoritative. He was sure that seeing this man in the front line, even he would have walked into any battle. But the charm lasted only as long as Jürgen opened his mouth. The first sentence he uttered, the playfulness, the teasing in it dispelled all of Mario’s doubts. This was a man so similar to the Klopp he knew.

“What is going on here?” He sat down in the chair at the end of the table. “And where are my servants? Am I supposed to serve myself now?”

“We had to clear the hall, Your Grace.” Robert reported obediently. He greeted his king with a bow. “We had found Sir Kirch and we questioned him. We haven’t learned much, but we needed to act fast and needed discretion.”

“I see. Discretion that only Götze’s presence could grant you, I suppose.” The king mused out loud as he reached for a cup. Mario sprang to him and handed him one and the next second, he filled it with wine. Why did everyone have something against him? He didn’t understand it, but he knew very well that he didn’t have time to ponder over it. The king’s appearance broke Robert’s momentum, and Mario could use it to his own advantage, especially because Marco was still just standing there, unable to do anything. Mario sighed inwardly. He would have been so much more suited for the role of the prince…

“The prince insisted that he stayed here.” The First Knight explained.

“I’m not surprised.” Klopp nodded, already chewing on a slice of fresh bread. What was it with this habit of talking about people in the room without even turning to them, Mario asked himself. “And what have you found out?”

Marco opened his mouth, but Robert was quicker again. “Nothing concrete. We have a few ideas and theories, but we have no real proof or lead on which we could start investigating. And I am afraid that any further inquiries will have to wait until the end of the funeral.”

“But Mario came up with a plan.” Marco spoke up and this time, the brunet wished that he hadn’t. The king turned towards him and measured him with a questioning glance.

“Is that so, Götze?”

“Yes, Your Grace!” Mario stammered.

“I’m all ears.” The older man leaned back in his chair.

“Well, given that another assassin could easily sneak into the capital with the arrival of the princess our prince will propose to, I suggested that I accompanied the prince to welcome the princess and maybe find out something on the way to the capital. An assassin might be less suspicious in the presence of only a servant.” Mario mumbled, only loud enough for the king to hear it.

“I see.” Klopp nodded. “And of course it has nothing to do with your wish to be with the prince, am I right?” He added with a smug smile.

“Father!” Marco stepped forward and the king looked at him. Mario still couldn’t quite believe that Marco was calling Kloppo his father in this world. “Mario’s father had been a great servant to the kingdom. Why don’t you let Mario serve the realm, too?”

“I _am_ letting him serve the kingdom. He has just filled my cup.” Jürgen retorted and took another sip from the wine. “And other than that, I believe we should let everyone do what he is the best at, and with all due respect, I think that our security is not Mario’s concern. I feel much safer in the hands of the First Knight and his people.”

“Although he still hasn’t found the Black Knight.” Marco pointed out, and Robert thanked him with a cutting glance.

“We are doing everything we can, Your Grace,” he started to save his position. “We only need more time.”

“You don’t have to tell me, Robert.” Jürgen smiled. “We have known each other for years. I know what I can ask from you.”

“Still, it might be wise to have more irons in the fire.” Mats spoke up calmly. He spoke as if he was giving an advice and he had thought over every possibility in the last few minutes. “If we focus on the Black Knight only, other developments might evade our attention, and we aren’t in a position to allow ourselves that. We are too many steps behind.”

“Do you think that there is a danger lurking outside our borders?” The king looked at the raven-haired.

“It is a possibility.” Mats nodded.

“God, you are speaking in riddles!” Klopp snapped. “Tell me what’s going on! What do you suspect? I am the king, if there’s a plot going on, I should be the first one to know about it.”

Even Mario couldn’t miss the air freezing in the hall as Mats and Robert exchanged anxious glances. They knew very well how much the prince’s marriage meant to the king, and they didn’t want to be the ones bringing him the news. Marco on the other hand, had other concerns. He was afraid to speak, because he thought that the king would react exactly the way Mats reacted, and think that Marco was only looking for a way out of this proposal.

“Your Grace, there’s nothing definite–” Robert spoke warily.

“I don’t care!” Klopp shouted and he slammed his hand down on the table. All plates jumped into the air and fell back on the table with a loud clatter. “I want to know what’s going on!”

“We have reason to suspect that if there is a plot, some of the conspirators will come here with the princess.” Mats expressed Marco’s theory as tactfully as possible. “We think that the attack on me and the planned attack on you after the tournament was in order to stop you from carrying out your plan to make me the heir.”

“And it took the four of you to come to that conclusion? Wow, congratulations!” Klopp mocked them. “Of course someone tries to intervene and prevent you getting to the throne! I want to know, who!”

“Bachiano’s lords.” Marco said seriously. Mario could see that the same thought crossed the king’s mind as the Lord Advisor’s, but he heard his son out. “When I was there with the First Knight to agree on the proposal, I overheard two of them talking about this plot.”

“That’s nonsense!” Klopp snorted. “King Pep would never allow something like that. No matter what you think, Marco, you will go and welcome the princess tomorrow. You will greet her as your future wife, accompany her into the capital and the day after tomorrow, you will propose to her.” He ended the debate. “Robert, you will find the Black Knight before the princess arrives, I don’t care what it costs! This proposal will come through and that’s it. And Mario!”

Mario almost fainted as the king turned towards him. Jürgen’s eyes were on fire and he looked rather furious. “You will stay in the capital and serve the First Knight until Erik gets better. And now, help him get ready for the funeral of Lord Höwedes! I don’t want any one of you be late.” With that, he spun around and started off the hall with heavy steps.

“Your Grace!” Mats stood up and called after him. Klopp stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Erik is already feeling better. Mario is right. He can eavesdrop on the lords, just in case there is a plot going on. I think it is improbable, but we should be safe.”

“Whatever.” Klopp gave in, resigned. Mario didn’t know what it meant, and the king didn’t say another world. He left in a much less royal posture, with his shoulders slumped and his legs taking him further unsure. The First Knight followed him. He walked out of the hall with his nose high in the air, as if he was making up for his pride being offended.

“I’ll get ready alone, Mario. You don’t have to come with me.” Mats stood up and started off.

Only Mario and Marco were left in the huge hall and it wasn’t just the vastness of space making Mario feel like there was a huge distance between them. The difference between their positions in this world was putting their friendship to a test, and they were failing, as things stood. Mario didn’t know how they could save themselves, and how long they were going to be trapped here. He saw their chances gloomy. But then, a ray of hope appeared, with an expression in Marco’s eyes Mario had expected the least.

Concern.


	26. The Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long long break, I'm here with the next chapter. I don't want to promise anything, but hopefully real life won't be as demanding in the next weeks, and I can return to regular updates. Thank you all for your patience and please, enjoy the new chapter.

Mats wanted to see Benni before the funeral and when he finally saw his love in the cathedral, his reason to worry was proved to be right. Not that the young lord looked as if concern about his well-being was grounded. On the contrary! He looked full of strength, he stood with a straight back next to his father’s coffin and he patiently accepted condolences from the many noblemen lined up in front of him to say farewell to the former powerful Lord Höwedes.

But it was only the façade and Mats knew it. Everyone was playing a role here. He knew that the noblemen couldn’t care less about the passing of Lord Höwedes, at least not in the way they let it show. Most of them was quite glad that the old lord was gone, because it presented them an opportunity to further their causes and maybe even get into a higher position. Border disputes that had been closed earlier would be reopened, plots would form to weaken Benni’s status in the realm and in the lordship, and all that just for more power. It was disgusting, and seeing the blond man stand in the middle of these hungry counts and knights reminded Mats of a scene of a thirsty wanderer in a desert with vultures circling above his head, assessing their next prey and waiting until he would collapse.

Benni couldn’t collapse. His mother sat in the first row of seats and she didn’t take her eyes off her son even for a second. She wanted to make sure that Benni did what was expected to him. They couldn’t live off the memory of the old Lord; it wouldn’t sustain for long. At the slightest hint of weakness, the other families would be ready to strike and get the lordship out of Höwedes’ hands.

Mats sat down in the second row. He was a high-ranking advisor in the court, but it still didn’t entitle him to a seat among the real leaders of the country. The cathedral was an impressive building, with every window positioned in a way that served some purpose. The sunrays now illuminated the shrine and Mats could imagine how a simple peasant must have felt seeing this scenery. To him, it had to be a clear proof of the church carrying out God’s will. To Mats, it was nothing more than show; the last remainder of the church’s former power.

Now, the people weren’t as romantic. They were more concerned about their grumbling stomachs and material desires than what their souls might or might not need. Of course no one dared to make a real statement about it and cease visiting the weekly masses, at least not among the noblemen. But, Mats could feel a change in the air, and he was sure that with time, the church’s position would weaken enough to allow…

No, he couldn’t think about that. Not now, not ever. It wasn’t just the church standing between Benni and him. It was more than that. It was duty, loyalty, responsibility and all those awful things that came with their status. And they had to accept them in order to maintain their positions. There was no way out and he better stopped hoping for it.

Of course, there were those noblemen who found a way to meet the expectations raised towards them and still please their own needs, but Mats could never do that. He couldn’t lie to a woman and tell her he loved her, while he found pleasure in another man’s bed. He would rather face the fury of the king with boldly disobeying his orders. After all, Mats wasn’t a prince. He was a free man who happened to be a bastard of the queen, and was lucky enough to live to his adolescence with his head still sitting on his head. He was happy to help the realm and advise the king, but no one could expect him to do more than that.

He couldn’t miss the moment King Jürgen entered the cathedral. A heavy silence fell over the huge body of the church and the noblemen gave way to their rightful ruler, some bowing, some even kneeling down. The king wore his full armor as he stepped to Benni and repeated his words of condolences from the day before. It was the first sincere condolence Benni had heard that day. He accepted it with a sour smile. The king took a deep breath and looked at the coffin that held the body his life-long friend. He was fighting with his tears, Mats realized.

The two of them had built up this kingdom, there was no doubt about it. They had been more than lord and his king. They were everything that kept this country in relative peace while all of their neighbors had to deal with rebellions. Now, Jürgen saw their work in danger, and he obviously didn’t think that Benni could live up to his father’s example. He was young and they wouldn’t understand each other with the king. That’s why Jürgen wanted Mats to take over. The special connection between Benni and him, no matter how much the king hated it, would give them what they needed to maintain the status quo in this fragile setting. Mats saw all that, and his brain, the brain of the king’s number one advisor told him that it was a great idea and exactly what the kingdom needed, but he couldn’t ignore his heart’s cry. For once in his life, he thought he deserved to put his own needs ahead of what was good for the kingdom.

The king turned away from the coffin after a long minute and he stopped on his way to his chair in front of Lady Höwedes. The old woman didn’t move a single muscle in her face. She sat there, dressed in black, and her eyes seemed to look straight through Jürgen, looking for something they would never find. She was mourning, Mats understood in shock. It shouldn’t have been so surprising. She had spent most of her life by Lord Höwedes’s side, and they had stuck together through good and bad, who could blame her for feeling sad about the death of her husband? And still, given the image of the strong lady she had always tried to paint of herself, Mats couldn’t stop the feeling of amazement. This old woman was a human being just like everyone in this cathedral. She had feelings, and she could be hurt – that meant she could also love, even though Mats had never had the chance to experience any of her love.

Prince Marco was the last to arrive. He had changed into appropriate clothes: decent but still putting him second after his father above everyone else present. Mats was quite sure that it was his servant Marcel who had chosen the clothes for him. The Marco he knew would have dressed up even to a funeral in his most pompous clothes. But something still wasn’t right. This Marco was different, and Mats couldn’t get rid of this feeling. His half-brother would have never understood his role so much. He wouldn’t have climbed the steps leading to the coffin with his head hung low, and showing sorrow, even if it wasn’t completely honest. He exchanged a few words with Benni and then he sat down next to the king.

At that moment, the bells began to toll. It was the signal for the funeral to start. Benni walked down the stairs and took his seat on his mother’s right, next to the aisle. The huge doors of the cathedral were closed and the sound of the organ rang through the air. It was like a cold dagger into Mats’s heart. This music was meant to glorify God, but Mats had never liked the crude power of this instrument. How could anyone please God with such a huge organ? No, he thought that to serve God was to serve other people and do that all the time, no matter how big or how little that service might be. It wasn’t a popular opinion, especially among the cardinals.

They now entered in their ceremonial clothes, all gold and colorful. They liked to create this atmosphere of mystery around themselves. They wanted everyone to believe that they held the secret of the only way towards God and that ultimately, everyone needed to consult them to get closer to the Higher Truth. They needed it to keep some of their power, even though it was preposterous and couldn’t have been further from what God wanted, Mats was sure about that.

“We are all God’s children!” The main cardinal stepped to the pulpit and addressed the people crowded in the cathedral. “We live through his grace and we are bound to return to him one day. We are here to say farewell to Lord Höwedes who had returned to his Creator. But though this is a time to mourn him, let us not forget about his deeds. Death is what gives our life meaning. It is the time when we measure ourselves, look deep into our souls and ask ourselves: are our lives worth living? Do we give enough to this world? Do we serve those around us? Do we make a sincere effort to become the best men we can possibly be?

“It is not my place to judge a man’s life, but looking at the many things Lord Höwedes did, his service to his king and through that to all of us, I am sure that when the time comes, when Lord Höwedes’s deeds will be assessed, he can stand with a clear heart in front of his Creator, without any regrets. And so, his example shows us the way we have to take. I want all of you to ask yourselves, if you are doing everything you can to make this world a better place not just for you, but for everyone else? Are you willing to take risks and go against everyone else if needed, just because you see an injustice others are blind to?

“If your answer is no, and since we all are only fallible human beings, I suspect most of you will answer with a no, you must ask yourselves what you can do. You can’t count on yourselves alone there. That’s where you need the help of God: his strength, his power, his might. Only he can lend you the strength and the endurance you will need to carry on through all obstacles, through all hardships until one day you can lean back and say that you did everything right and you’ve accomplished your goal. But you must stay modest and humble. It won’t be your accomplishment. It will be the grace of our mighty Lord, and we are only tools in his hands. Let us pray that he will show us his grace and light up the way we have to take!”

The whole cathedral stood up as one and started to mumble the prayer without meaning one single word of it. It was exactly what Mats hated about religion. The main thought was great and he could agree with most of it, but seeing this flock reciting the lines they had been taught at an early age, he got tired of the whole parade. They didn’t understand half of what the cardinal had just said! Not even the cardinal understood the implications of his words. Yes, Mats saw a huge injustice in the world, but if he would dare to fight against it, the church would be the first to stop him and demand his head.

He cast a sidelong glance at Benni. He could see the inner battle sit out on the blond’s face. The cardinal’s sermon must have touched him the same way it had touched Mats. There was nothing extraordinary about it, most of the time, the priests would say something of the sort at the funeral, reminding their people that they were the only ones who could teach them how to live a meaningful life. And yet, these words had never seemed to be so powerful before. This was the first time that Mats felt like he had to do something and that he would get God’s blessing on his quest.

He was about to turn back when he saw a shadow in the furthest corner of the cathedral. It moved quickly and fluently, almost impossible to notice. The man quickly vanished in the crowd, but Mats had no doubts about who he might be. He looked around startled, his eyes searching for the First Knight. Robert stood right next to his king, wary as always, scanning the crowd and following the assassin pushing through the people.

Mats let out a sigh of relief. With Robert knowing about the threat, he was sure that he could relax. There was no need to fear for the king’s life. He would be protected. He saw two more guards stepping closer to the king, and another guard walked over to him, his hand already on his sword. A few people looked up, noticing the tension rising in the air. But, the flock’s quiet murmur drowned out all sounds, and if Mats hadn’t been so focused on the moment, pricking his ears up, he would have surely missed the short scuffle going on a few rows behind him telling him that the assassin had been taken care of.

The crowd remained calm, and it was a good sign. The last thing they needed was the people (and thus the many noblemen present) to know that there was a plot against the king and his family. No matter how much they loved king Jürgen, Mats knew that there would be some who would jump ships at the first opportunity, especially if overthrowing their rightful king promised them more power or just more land. It was a vicious game, and Mats knew that if they wanted to keep playing it, they could never rest.

The First Knight kept his seeming calm, but he signaled to the cardinal to keep it as short as possible. The old clergyman nodded and he went through the rituals in a somewhat hurried manner. Not many seemed to notice, almost everyone was glad that they didn’t have to spend a lot of time on this funeral. No matter how huge the cathedral was, the air had become suffocating, and the feast commemorating the deceased seemed to be much more promising than the funeral itself.

Not that Mats would have any of it. He knew very well what was awaiting them. They had to interrogate the assassin, to find out who he was working for and who was his target. They had to put an end to this conspiracy as soon as possible, ideally before the prince’s engagement. As Mats left the cathedral, he sighed. His own needs and his personal quest had to wait. Once again, the matters of the state had to be prioritized.


	27. A Conspiracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I could update two chapters the days I wanted to. :-) Dear Blue Night, I hope you will like Mario's little deed in this chapter. :-)

The royal castle was dead silent, everyone who mattered had left for the funeral of the late Lord Höwedes. There were only servants running up and down the corridors, readying everything for the feast. Erik and Julian stood on one of the many cloisters on the upper floors. The people minding their business seemed like little ants from this height and they couldn’t see past the castle’s walls, apart from the cathedral’s tower. It reached into the skies and when its bells started to toll, sending away the deceased one’s soul for its last journey, Erik snaked his hand around Julian’s waist and he rested his head on the dark-haired man’s shoulder.

“What is awaiting us now, Jule?” Erik sighed. He was looking for reassurance, but Julian simply stared in front of himself and didn’t say anything for a long time.

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I guess Lord Benedikt will return to the Höwedes castle and will rule the lordship from there. He will have very busy first few days, with many lords coming to him to get his favor or test his strength. It won’t be easy for him, and I need to be by his side. I might not know much about the questions of the realm and ruling, but I know I can help him through his days by looking after his needs.”

“Maybe Prince Mats will let me go with you.” Erik mused out loud. “Now that Mario has become Prince Marco’s servant, I need to aid the Lord Advisor, but after the wedding, I think he will let me leave for a few days because of my injury.”

“Where has the obedient and dutiful servant who only wants to be by his lord’s side gone?” Julian teased him, referring to their talk from the previous evening.

“He has fallen in love with another wonderful servant and he might reconsider his priorities, considering his lord and his love.” Erik hit back playfully and pulled Julian closer to him.

“Good answer.” The dark-haired young man smiled. He quickly looked around and when he saw no one except for a guard on his round on the walls, he put a chaste kiss on Erik’s cheeks. The brunet blushed and he held Julian’s hand.

“And what about our lords? Have you thought of anything how to get them together undisturbed?” Erik winked.

“Oh, yes. I remember how Lord Benedikt looked like after the night when Lord Mats arrived at the castle. They have probably been up the whole night, and I can’t remember the last time when I saw him that happy. So all we have to do is somehow get Lord Mats in Lord Benedikt’s chambers, or the other way around, it doesn’t really matter. The rest will sort out itself.” Julian explained.

“But you forget that this isn’t the Höwedes castle.” Erik sighed. “In this palace, everyone watches everyone, and a night spent together wouldn’t go unnoticed. Can you imagine what they would get if someone found out? And I’ve been living here all my life, so please believe me when I say that they will find out.”

Julian’s smile vanished, and Erik had a sour taste in his mouth. He hated it when he had to bring his boyfriend down, but despite what Julian thought about himself, from the two of them, it was Erik who understood more how the way things went. He had to keep his love with two feet on the ground, otherwise Julian could find himself in huge trouble sooner or later.

“Yes, I’ve thought of that, too.” Julian smirked, much to Erik’s surprise. His smile didn’t predict anything good and Erik had to gulp as he watched the short twinkle in Julian’s eyes. His love was up to something, and Erik knew that he wouldn’t like it. “We have to give everyone something else to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, Jule, but I have no intention of being in the center of everyone’s attention.” Erik snorted.

“You won’t have to be.” Julian laughed. “You’ll only have to drop a few words in the kitchen when you go for Lord Mats’s breakfast. Everything else will work out from then on.”

Erik stared at Julian for a long moment, thinking hard about what exactly his love was suggesting. Then, he finally understood and his jaw dropped. “You want me to lie? Do you want me to tell the maids a story that isn’t true so they won’t talk about our lords?”

“Everything for them, right?” Julian asked with more concern than confidence. “Look, Erik, Lord Mats is an early riser, probably the first one to wake up in this palace. You will be the first servant in the kitchen, and the story you tell the maids is the one that will pick up. Just imagine it. If it is juicy enough, they will share it with every other servant, and they surely won’t keep their mouths shut in front of their lords.”

“And I guess you already have a juicy story…” Erik suggested. Julian grinned, nodded and leaned closer to Erik, whispering into his ear. “You are evil, you know that, right?” Erik asked when Julian was done. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to share a story about? If someone finds out that I was the one who started this rumor, I will be dead in no time.”

“Come on, Erik, no one ever knows who starts a rumor.” Julian laughed. “And I am quite satisfied with my choice. Not everyone could stop a malicious rumor, and I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“Well, you certainly found the right person, then!” Erik joined in his laughter. He snaked his hand around Julian’s lean waist again.

“So will you help me? I mean, them? Please?” Julian asked him with begging eyes.

“How can I say no to a wonderful man like you?” Erik gave in after a moment of hesitation.

“I promise I will repay you.” Julian smirked, but his smile vanished the next second. “Erik? Isn’t that knife a bit too long for a servant?” He frowned.

Erik followed his glance. A group of servants had just exited the kitchen and they were carrying huge trays with the most delicious hams. But the last one of them didn’t look like a servant at all. He moved differently, with too much grace, too fluid movements, and the knife he held in his left hand was indeed longer than everyone else’s. It looked more like a short sword than a knife, Erik realized, and a very bad feeling overtook him.

“Stay here, I’ll take care of it!” Julian said firmly and he started off so quickly that Erik didn’t have time to warn him that he had chosen the wrong path.

Julian got lost in the royal palace very easily, and Erik found it quite amusing, given how much time he spent here. But this time, he couldn’t laugh at it. Someone was in danger, an assassin was inside the castle. It was unthinkable, and Erik felt a need to do something. He was still weak, but he couldn’t just stand there and hope that Julian would solve things. He knew a shorter way and he turned around, running down the stairs.

He ran past a guard and he shouted at him, without stopping, to follow him. He didn’t turn back, he could only hope that the guard would take him seriously. He reached the ground floor slightly out of breath, but there was no time to rest. He burst into the yard and looked around. He couldn’t see the servants right away, but then, he found their group at a far table.

He slowed down, not to raise any suspicion and he kept his eye locked on the assassin. It was an older man, but he moved like a young boy. He kept his head down, and Erik couldn’t see his face. He was careful and this clearly wasn’t his first mission. It troubled Erik. If Julian acted without thinking, he could get hurt.

And that’s exactly what happened. The dark haired man appeared in a doorway closer to the assassin, and he didn’t stop to consider the situation. As soon as he spotted the man he was looking for, he started to run towards him.

“Hey, you!” He yelled. The assassin didn’t look up. He knew that he had been revealed. He stepped away from the table and started to run. The servants around him weren’t quick enough to stop him, and so he started to run straight towards Erik.

He still didn’t look up, and all of Erik’s hope to catch a glimpse of his face were vain. He was a professional, trained never to give away his own identity, or his principals. Erik stood there with his legs wide apart, trying to put as much weight on his feet as he could to get a firm footing as he readied himself for body checking the stranger. At least he had that advantage over the man who still hadn’t looked up.

The distance between them got smaller and smaller and Erik leaned a bit forward to hit the assassin with his shoulder. He never even worried about the knife the other man still held in his hand. If he hit the man hard enough, he wouldn’t have a chance to cut him.

But it didn’t even come to that. Just before Erik’s shoulder would have slammed into the assassin’s face, the man spun around so quickly that Erik didn’t have the time to follow him. He danced around the strong frame of the brunet and continued on his way towards the big gates that were still closed. It was their only chance.

The palace had been closed ever since the king and others had left for the funeral, and most of the guards were there too, to protect their ruler. Now it worked against them, because the guards who had stayed within the walls weren’t the smartest or the quickest to react and it was only now that they slowly woke from their slumber. They reached for their weapons and rushed to the courtyard to put an end to this altercation.

The assassin realized that he was vastly outnumbered and he stopped for a second to observe his surroundings. His face was covered in dirt or coal, Erik couldn’t make it out from such a distance. It lasted only a moment, because after that, the assassin was moving again, slaloming between the columns holding up the inner walls of the palace.

Erik followed him with his eyes and tried to guess what he was up to. Considering where he was running, he had three options. Either run up the stairs Erik had used moments earlier and try to hide in the living chambers, or possibly run down into the kitchen and mingle in the servants, or finally take the most unpleasant route and jump straight into the sewage system, the safest way to get him out of the palace.

It looked like he would make it. The guards couldn’t follow him, he was running too quickly, and the servants were too shocked to help them corner him. Something told Erik that he would evade their chain anyways. Julian rushed past him, holding a chopper he must have picked up from the butchers.

Shouts rang all over the courtyard as the guards’ commander tried to enforce some system and order into the movements of his men, but to no avail. The young guards all wanted to be heroic and were adamant to stop the assassin alone, a tactic he could dodge very easily.

He was already at the doorway leading up the living chambers when the least probable thing happened. Erik saw a shadow come out of the stairway, and the next moment, he saw whom it belonged to.

Mario looked around completely stunned, not understanding what was going on around him, and the assassin bumped straight into him. He lost his balance and went down to the ground, dropping his knife. Mario was surprisingly quick to react for a servant who had spent most of his life either in the palace or in the stables, and he picked up the weapon before the assassin could get to it. A loud swearing echoed in the courtyard as the stranger jumped to his feet and took a threatening step towards Mario. He couldn’t leave his knife in the palace and leave behind clues. But at the same time, he didn’t have much time, either, because the guards were closing up on him, finally resembling an ordered formation.

The assassin chose the easiest way to tackle Mario. He went to the ground and kicked his leg out, but Mario jumped up in the same second and evaded the kick aimed at his ankles. At the end of the same moment, the assassin was on his feet again, and this time, he tried to wrap his arms around Mario, but the brunet was quicker again. He dribbled past the man.

“Argh!” A hurt cry sent shivers down everyone’s spine as Mario cut the assassin with his own weapon. Erik could see the flame of anger light up in the man’s eyes as he cast a last glance at Mario before realizing how close the guards had gotten to him. He hissed another swear in a language Erik couldn’t make out and started to run again.

His wound wasn’t too deep, and it didn’t limit him in his movement. He pressed forward in the same elegant and fluid fashion as before and his superiority over the guards was once again visible. Erik finally realized that they wouldn’t get him, no matter how hard they would try.

He watched the last images of the scene enfold in front of him with this calm detachment. He even marveled as the assassin ducked away from the strike of the last guard standing in his way. He got to the door that would lead him down into the sewers. A few guards rushed after him, but they returned a few minutes later completely out of breath and shaking their heads in disbelief.

Erik came back to his senses again and he jogged over to Mario. Julian was already by his side and they inspected the knife in the brunet’s hand curiously. Erik’s first glance told him that it was no ordinary knife. Its handle was of the most luxurious material, and the blade was razor-sharp and they could see their reflection in its silvery shine.

“Give it to me, boy!” The guards’ commander stepped over to them and the three servants looked at him in unison. Erik didn’t really think that he had any more right to have the only evidence of a failed attack than them, not after witnessing the incompetence of the royal guard’s members. But Mario seemingly wasn’t on the same page, because he reached out his trembling hand and gave the weapon to the older man.

That moment, the gates were opened and the people from the funeral returned. Erik instinctively looked for the Lord Advisor and he found him riding his horse right behind the new Lord Höwedes. But he still couldn’t miss the group of guards in the middle of this march. They were riding very close together and seemingly they were carrying someone in the middle. Someone they didn’t want to get their eyes off. When Erik finally caught a glimpse of the mysterious stranger, he almost cried out in surprise.

The man was wearing clothes identical to the ones the assassin they had fought minutes ago had worn.


	28. Two Quests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful response under the last chapter, I will try to reply to your comments as soon as possible, but lately I don't get much time online, and I have to spend most of it doing other things, so I don't have much time for AO3, and I want to use that for my updates. I hope you understand it. :-)

Marco saw that something was out of order as soon as they rode into the palace. He didn’t understand exactly what was going on around him, but the servants standing in a group, and a lot of guards standing around the gate told him that something extraordinary must have happened just a few moments before they arrived. He instinctively searched for Mario, and when he found his friend standing between Julian and Erik, he tried to inch his way towards them. Mats and Kloppo walked over to Robert who was seemingly having a smaller row with one of the guards’ commanders.

“What happened here?” He asked concerned from Mario. He was looking for any wounds on his friend, or a sign that he might be hurt, but he noticed relieved that this wasn’t the case.

“There was a planned attack, My Prince!” Julian reported obediently and Marco’s eyes went wide.

“Two attacks on one day?” He blurted out.

“Two attacks, My Prince?” Erik raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, there was an assassin at the cathedral, as well.” Marco nodded in the direction where the guards were taking the assassin out of the saddle. They had been asked not to talk about it, but on one hand, Marco trusted these young men in front of him, and on the other hand, he saw no possibility that this would remain a secret for a long time, especially after knowing what had happened at the palace. He glanced at the king who was probably being informed about the same right now. To say that he didn’t look very pleased would have been a huge understatement. He was furious and Marco wouldn’t have liked to stand right next to him.

“But Mario stopped him, My Prince!” Julian announced, with an audible pride and awe in his voice. Marco though felt like his ears were deceiving him. He looked at his friend bewildered.

“It was nothing, just an accident.” He explained.

“And the guards couldn’t get hold of him, anyways.” Erik added.

At that moment, Klopp’s loud cry rang through the court and Marco jerked his head up. “Mats! Marco! Come with me!” The king roared and he started off towards the council room immediately. The First Knight took a faltering step, but Klopp’s blazing eyes stopped him. “Not you, Robert! Take care of that bastard!” He nodded at the assassin and continued on his way. He was practically running and Marco had to hurry to catch up to him. He didn’t want to let him wait right now.

He sent an apologetic glance at Mario and jogged after the older man. Mats waited for him and they hurried after the king together, exchanging baffled glances. The king was angry, that much was clear. The fact that he left Robert on the courtyard spoke for itself but they had no idea what it meant for them. But then, they wouldn’t have to wait for long to find out.

Klopp waited for them and closed the gate after them. He pointed at two chairs and neither Mats nor Marco had the guts to object. They watched as the king paced up and down, exhaling audibly.

“I can’t even say goodbye to my dearest friend without having to face an attack! And not just one! Two attacks on one day and that in the middle of our capital!” He fumed. “What the hell is happening? And what do my guards do? Absolutely nothing! They can’t even stop a wounded amateur! What has gone wrong with this world?”

Mats and Marco stared at the huge stone table, too afraid to look at the king. The advisor gulped and he sent a sidelong glance at Marco. They almost looked like two good brothers caught in a mischief, listening to their parents’ sermon, but this time, there was much more at stake.

“What are you going to do about the First Knight, Your Grace?” Mats asked in the end.

“Nothing.” Klopp slumped down in his chair. “I can’t do much. Even if I wanted to, I can’t rid him of his title right now. It would cause more harm than good.”

“Even if you wanted to?” Marco snapped. He had no idea about running a state, but this seemed to be too dense for any kind of ruler. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but the First Knight has failed you over and over again, and practically anyone can get into the palace or at least close to you. How can you still believe that he is the right one to decide in matters of safety?”

“Leave this Your Grace nonsense!” Klopp snarled. “And I do trust Robert. Yes, he makes mistakes, but he is young and inexperienced. This is the first time he has to solve a crisis. But as soon as you can show me a man more suited for his role, I will appoint him as the new First Knight.”

That silenced Marco. He didn’t know any other knights apart from Robert and Kirch, and he wasn’t sure about the capabilities of the latter. The real prince seemed to trust him, but trusting someone with your own safety and with the safety of a whole kingdom were two completely different things.

“This won’t get us anywhere.” Mats spoke with the voice of reason. “We can point fingers at each other, but it won’t solve the situation we are in. We must be honest with each other, and share everything we know or think. And that means you, too, Jürgen.” Marco was amazed by the way he addressed the king. It was the first time he had heard it from Mats’s mouth in this world. “You don’t have to pretend here. It is more than obvious that you don’t trust Robert anymore. Or at least not the way you used to.”

“It’s not that simple, boys.” Klopp sighed. “When I look at Robert, I don’t see the man he is right now. I see what he can become, and for that, I must give him chances to prove himself. I firmly believe that he will use it sooner rather than later. He will show everyone what he is capable of, I am sure about that. I’m simply disappointed, because I think he doesn’t understand just how serious this situation really is.”

“And do you?” Mats noted dryly. Marco’s heart missed a beat. He had known that the Lord Advisor could talk openly with the king, but this was on the edge of foolishness. The king’s eyes sent sparks everywhere and even Marco felt intimidated, even though he hadn’t said anything to Jürgen. But Mats didn’t look affected at all. “Because to me, it doesn’t look like you want to acknowledge what you are facing. You walk around and pretend that everything is alright, but in the meantime, everything gets out of your control. Do you notice it?”

“I could get your tongue cut out for this.” The king hissed.

“I know.” Mats said calmly. Marco was amazed by him. Where did he find the strength to be so firm and balanced? “And I know that you won’t do it.”

“You don’t understand it, Mats.” Klopp gave in with a sigh. “I can’t look weak or threatened. Believe me, I know the risks, but I can’t just let them take the better of me. I have to remain strong for the kingdom. What should I do? Hide in my chambers with my tail between my legs and not come out until the last source of danger is cleared? I cannot do that, and you know that as much as I do. A king has to be in the first line in peaceful and in dangerous times, too.”

“And how long will that be, if you don’t withdraw just a little bit?” Mats asked with the concern for a beloved one. Marco was once again overwhelmed by the love the raven haired showed for the king. He might have been a bastard in this world, but he still respected Klopp as his father, and he cared for him in the same way.

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” Klopp shrugged. “Robert will look after it, I know that. But I want you to help me out, as well.” He turned towards them confidentially. He didn’t look like a broken man at all. He impressed as a captain in total control of his ship. He knew what they had to do and he would do it, no matter what. “I considered Marco’s suspicion about the possible reason for this conspiracy. I would still like to believe that it isn’t true, but if it is, I want to put an end to it.”

“Technically, it was Mario’s idea.” Marco noted, but his remark fell on deaf ears.

“I want to make the conspirators’ job harder.” Klopp explained. “If they want to make sure that the throne will be in their hands, I’m sure they won’t harm Marco, and that’s why I would like the proposal to carry on as planned. They will think that everything is going according to their plan, and in the meantime, we will lure them into our palace. Kirch will go with you, Marco. He is a great fighter, I remember him from the past. I feel completely safe trusting your safety with him. He will take our best men and other knights he knows. Robert is needed here.

“Mats, you will have to leave Bay Town, too. It is safer if we are spread. And Benedikt will need you. You must help him secure his position. We need his alliance. Lady Frieda might be of great help, too. I know that you don’t like her, but she cares about her son, and she would do everything for him. Don’t forget this.” He emphasized, looking Mats deep in the eyes, and Marco thought that this sentence meant more than at first thought. The advisor nodded.

“Take care, boys! We are living dangerous times, our world is changing, and I don’t know how much we will recognize it once the change is over. You must choose very carefully whom you trust! I’ve taught you everything you need to know, and I trust you. Our future lies in the hands of all of us, let’s sure that we don’t throw it away!”

Marco felt like on one of their team talks ahead of an important game. It had the same effect on him: he felt full of strength, like he could take on the entire world and tackle every hardship in his way.

“Go everywhere with your ears open! Every little detail can be important. There are a lot of questions, and it is up to us to find the answers. We can do it, boys! That’s the only way we can go. But be back for the proposal. If it is really the Bachiano lords conspiring against us, we will put an end to this whole thing then. If not, and we don’t find out who is threatening us, we will fall and I’m not sure if we will ever stand up again from it.” He said directly and Marco felt a sense of responsibility, even though this wasn’t his world, and it wasn’t his home that was at stake. But his chance to go home depended on this, and he knew he had to do his best.

“Are you sure you will be safe here?” Mats asked. He stood up and walked over to the king, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Yes.” Klopp nodded. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourselves. You are this kingdom’s future. For years, I’ve been torn between two possibilities. It is no secret from you that I thought Mats to be the more suited for the role of the king. But still, I couldn’t help the feeling that you were missing the kind of dedication Marco had. It was just lately that I understood that I have been wrong all this time. I don’t have to choose. No one has to choose. You have to rule over this land together with all the apt women and men who care about the people. And this can be the beginning of this new world.”

“We won’t disappoint.” Mats reassured him and bowed before leaving the council room.

Marco was left alone with the king, and the silence that loomed over them was overwhelming. It wasn’t because of a tension between them, quite on the contrary. Marco could feel the hope Jürgen had put in him, and he was glad and nervous at the same time. No matter what, he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the king wasn’t trusting him, but the prince he thought Marco was.

“What’s troubling you, Marco?” The king asked in the end. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing”, he raised his hand before Marco could have said so. “I see that something is on your mind.”

“It’s Mario.” Marco gasped out, afraid of the king’s reaction. Jürgen had shown a completely other side to him in the last minutes, but the blond wasn’t sure if it would last when they would start talking about the annoying little stable boy who always got in the king’s way.

“It always has to be him, right?” The king smiled sourly.

“It’s not that…” Marco drawled. “I would like to talk to him about this all. And I really want to take him with me to greet the princess. I am sure he can help me find out something about this whole conspiracy.”

“You trust him.” The king stated after a long moment of consideration.

“I do.” Marco nodded.

“Why?” Jürgen asked. “For years I have tried to understand your affection for him, but I can’t see it.”

“It’s just like how you feel about Robert.” Marco explained. “I don’t see Mario for the man he is right now. Whenever I look at him, I see what could become of him. I see a smart fellow who understands what is going on around him. He is just used to being disparaged and refused, that’s why he doesn’t fight for his place. But believe me, if given the chance, he can show his real side and he can surprise a lot of people.” He couldn’t quite believe how easily he spoke. He wasn’t backing up for the prince or the real stable boy Mario. He was standing up for his friend, even in this world. And once again, he realized how similar the two worlds were.

“I see.” The king hummed. “And I see that I can’t do anything about you two. Maybe I should not even try.” He drew a deep breath as he got caught up in his thoughts. “So be it!” He clapped his hands. “Take him with you, and I do hope he can be of help. Every bit of help is well appreciated in this situation. And I honestly hope that he can become the man you would like him to be.” He added, looking Marco deep in the eyes, and for a moment, Marco thought that he wasn’t talking about Mario helping them anymore.


	29. On The Road

They didn’t remain in the palace for a long time, and Mario was grateful for it. To see the many lords and noblemen feast right after a funeral was disgusting. They weren’t just eating and drinking, they were gorging themselves and guzzling, as if they were determined to fill their stomachs for at least a week at the expense of the king. After the planned attack, Erik was adamant to stay by his lord’s side, so Mario could remain in the background, what mostly meant crouching behind the table where Marco sat along with Benni, Mats and Kloppo and other important figures in the kingdom.

The rumor about the assassin spread like wildfire among the servants and Mario would have sworn that it was circulating already in the city as well. Strangely enough, it also helped to silence the whispering about a man caught at the funeral. As far as the people knew, there was no other assassin, and the one who wanted to kill their king was sitting in the prison of the royal palace. Which of course wasn’t true. The guards could only catch one assassin, and Mario wasn’t sure if he hadn’t been meant only to keep them busy while the real assassin could finish his job. It was a genial plan, he had to admit, but he was wise enough not to voice it. No matter how small he tried to look like, he couldn’t get rid of Robert’s observant eyes. The royal guard’s commander seemed to have decided that he had a part in this entire plot, and Mario couldn’t wait until they would finally leave this city and he could smell some fresh air.

In the end, Benni helped him. He stood up after an hour, thanked the king for the hospitality, but he announced his leaving. It was the signal for Marco and Mats to get going, as well. Marco had had the time to tell Mario before the feast what was going to happen, so as soon as the blond prince left the table, Mario was right next to him, clinging to him like to a lifeline. He hadn’t been so convinced of his friend’s behavior, but when it really mattered, Marco spoke up for him, and he saved his ass not just once. Plus, he was Mario’s only chance to get home from this horrible world. And last but not least, there was Marco’s amazing personality that calmed Mario down.

When they arrived at the courtyard, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. For one, there were the many people of lower stature who hadn’t gotten a seat in the palace’s main hall, but there were also at least a hundred guards standing right next to the gates, wearing the most pompous armor Mario had ever seen. Their horses wore caparisons in the colors of the royal family, and in the middle stood a coach curved out of wood, but gilded with gold. There was no question that Marco was supposed to travel in that one and then return with his fiancée by his side.

Fiancée. Mario’s stomach clenched at the thought although it really didn’t have a reason to do so. The engagement could be the key of them getting home. He didn’t really think so, but it was a possibility. Then why on earth was he angry about Marco proposing to a princess? It’s not like he would have to live his life with her! It was only for a moment, until they would return to their homes. But then, Mario realized that it wasn’t Marco proposing to Kathy that annoyed him. It was the fact that he would see Marco on a woman’s side that troubled him the most, and the idea struck him strange.

They had never talked about their love lives, which was strange, given how close they had been in Dortmund (but then, it wasn’t like they had had a real love life back then). Mario had known about Marco’s girlfriend, but he knew his friend all too well to know that it was only for the public. Yes, Marco got along very well with Caro, but it wasn’t love, it was clear to see for everyone who was a bit more attentive. Not that Mario could judge Marco for it. He had been doing the same with Ann-Kathrin for years now. And he wasn’t happy.

“My Prince! We are ready to escort you to greet the princess!” A strong and tall blond knight stepped in front of them all of a sudden, startling Mario.

“Thank you, Olli– Sir Kirch!” Marco corrected himself. It was still strange to see him act like a prince, but Mario had to admit, the role suited him very much.

“Your servants had seen to packing your things. We can leave as soon as you would like.” The knight reported with a bow.

“I think we can go right away.” Marco said, looking at Mats for affirmation. The raven haired nodded.

“This way, then.” Olli showed them the way to the coach. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything, My Prince! I have picked the best men of the royal guards and the best swordsmen from the city. Others will join us on our way. I will get you safe to your princess, and I will bring both of you to the capital safe and sound.”

“I trust you, Sir!” Marco said as they stopped next to the couch. Marcel came out of nowhere and quickly opened the door for his prince.

“I will personally overlook your safety right next to the coach. And if you need anything, just tell me, My Prince!” Kirch finished and left with another bow. Mario could see that it made Marco uncomfortable, and he pushed away Marcel when he offered to help him get into the coach. Mario was unsure about where he was supposed to go, and it was Marco who helped him out.

“Get in, Mario!” He called and the brunet quickly climbed after him.

It was dark in the coach and the seats were covered with a soft fabric and there were cushions everywhere. Mario was utterly glad that he didn’t have to ride the entire time.

“I will ride next to the coach, My Prince!” Marcel announced before shutting the door.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the calls and orders ringing through the courtyard.

The moment the coach started to move, Mario understood why there was a need for so many cushions. The slightest bump in the road threw him into the air and he would have felt on his backside rather harshly every single time, and there were many such occasions. Dortehan’s road system couldn’t be compared to their Germany’s smooth Autobahns.

“I hope you will make something to protect the princess from this fate.” Mario groaned when he hit his head against the hard wooden frame of the coach for the umpteenth time.

“Mario, we can’t let it happen!” Marco cried out and caught Mario completely off-guard. “I can’t ask for Kathy’s hand! I’m not the prince who is supposed to marry her, and anyways, that prince doesn’t want to marry her at all.”

“Okay, so what can we do?” Mario put his hand on his hips challengingly. The next moment, he came to regret his decision, because he wasn’t ready for the next bump on the road and he fell face down on the coach’s floor. Marco reached down for him and helped him in a standing position. The brunet finally found a more or less stable place between the two seats facing each other.

“Are you alright?” The blond asked.

“Yes.” Mario muttered, rubbing his head. “But you seem to forget that Kloppo blames me for your, I mean the real prince’s unwillingness to marry Kathy. What do you think would happen if you called the engagement off? I’m sure I would find myself in the care of an executioner or worse.”

“No, I think Kloppo starts to realize that he can’t get his way.” Marco shook his head. “When we talked about his quests for Mats and me, it was almost as if he had accepted that you and me… I mean, the stable boy and the prince…”

“Could we stop correcting ourselves?” Mario burst out. “I guess we both know what we mean when we talk about them like us.” He said and took a pause. “God, this is so fucked up!”

“Don’t tell me!” Marco raised his hands in defense. “If we don’t find a way home soon, I’ll be expected to love someone I’m not in love with.”

“Everyone thinks that you love me.” Mario pointed out. Marco looked at him for a long moment with a strange expression, but then he shot his eyes down. The brunet couldn’t get rid of the feeling of unspoken tension between them, and the silence lasted for long minutes.

“So what will we do about my problem?” Marco asked again.

“The wisest thing would be to do exactly what Kloppo asked you to do.” Mario sighed. “And hope that the prince wasn’t mistaken and the conspiracy really comes from Bachiano.”

“Do you think he will stop the engagement then?” Marco looked at him pleadingly.

“I don’t know, Marco.” Mario slumped his shoulders. The burden his friend was trying to put on him was getting too much. He didn’t have all the answers and Marco kept looking for them coming from him. “But it will surely make him think about it.”

That was the best he could give the blond to ease his mind, but it still wasn’t enough. Marco pulled back and he curled into a ball in the corner of the coach, not caring about the shaking. He was silent for minutes that stretched into an eternity and Mario’s concern grew with each passing second. He was about to climb next to Marco and make sure that his friend was alright when the older one spoke up.

“That damn witch was right!” He snapped. “This world isn’t that different from ours and we can learn a lot here. But she could have made our jobs just a bit easier.” He shook his head in defeat, burying his face in his hands.

“What do you mean?” Mario asked.

“I feel exactly the way I feel at Dortmund.” Marco explained. “You know, the evening before we got here, you said that you saw me as a prince. I have given it a thought or two. I hate to admit, but I sometimes felt like a prince, and it flattered me. Being in the spotlight, manifesting the promise of the glorious future, loved by the fans unquestioningly, and never being criticized was something that suited me a lot. I was being too egoistic, I think, and I forgot that there was an other side to this whole role.” He took a deep breath.

“I forgot about my responsibility and duty. I never cared about my teammates. I wasn’t there to lead them. I was there to boss around and tell them what to do. Serve me, in a way. I can’t count how many times I have shouted at Erik for not passing to me. And in the meantime, I might have been offside, or there were other, much better passing options for him. I was a douchebag in the locker room, as well. Take Mats or Schmelle. They are always there for us even after trainings or matches. They notice immediately if something is wrong with you. And they come to you and tell you the right words to make you feel better. I have never done that. But I expected everyone to see it when I was having a rough day.”

“I haven’t meant the prince thing this way.” Mario gaped, completely dumbfounded by his friend’s sudden and sincere confession.

“I know. But it’s the truth, nonetheless.”

Marco snuffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Mario considered the move quite disgusting and very unprincelike, but it wasn’t important right now. He sat down next to Marco and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. The blond leaned into the touch and was ready to continue.

“But things changed a lot this season. When we were shit, everyone was expecting me to come up with a solution, and it kind of worked out by the end of the season, but you know what? I hated it. I hated the responsibility. I’ve had dozens of sleepless nights. The expectations were crushing me and I never wanted to step up and take the role of a leader. I didn’t want to lead. I wanted to be the first fiddler under a different conductor. The one who gets the biggest applause from the band but doesn’t direct everything. I was afraid and I didn’t want to grow up.”

“It’s completely understandable.” Mario said after another long silence between them. “But if I ever learned anything at Bayern, it is that you can only postpone meeting your problems, but you can’t avoid them. I was running away, too. There were huge expectations on me, too. They wanted to see their money back in the form of great performances from me, and I couldn’t quite give them that. At least not as much or as good as the management expected. All those journalists who write that I am a failure there are right.” He admitted with a sour voice and continued before Marco could object. “Don’t try to convince me of anything else. I know how I feel. I can sense that Pep doesn’t count with me any longer. I look forward to every international break now.”

“But I know that I have to deal with it. I have to fight for my place, for my image and prove everyone else wrong. I can’t wait to see their faces!” He smiled as Marco watched him stunned. “I will do that. And you will live up to the expectations, too. Because you are a fighter, Marco. You made the step between the two Borussias with ease. You will become a leader in Dortmund too. And before that, we will find a way to get home from here and we will look back at this incredible journey not believing what we’ve come through.”

“Do you really think so?” Marco smiled.

“Yes, of course.” Mario looked him deep in the eyes.

Time froze for a second. The brunet felt the connection that had made them so special in Dortmund again. Of course, it had been there all the time, but now, it was as strong as it had ever been. They thought the same way and they could feel a higher something above them that they could create but was stronger than the two of them.

The moment didn’t last for long. The next second, Kirch knocked on the side of the coach.

“My Prince, we are approaching the Höwedes Castle! Lord Höwedes has asked you to have dinner with him. After that, we will have to keep going though, if we want to be on time to greet the princess.”

“Thank you, Sir Kirch!” Marco answered, assuming his role in this world. The knight rode forward again and Mario and Marco looked out the window.

The castle they saw was as impressive as the many medieval castles Mario had seen in his history book at school. It was a result of careful planning and a perfect fortress that still had a beauty to it. And yet, the black clouds gathering in the sky didn’t predict anything good for them.


	30. In the Castle

It seemed like everyone in and around the castle came to the streets to welcome their new lord. Marco decided to get out of his coach and ride into the castle alongside Mats and Benni. Mario had reservations against riding, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he could do it.

The ride was worth it though. The castle didn’t impress as mirthless at all. The windows of the houses were wide open and cheerful children ran up and down the streets, most of them barefooted, not caring about the rock tiles serving as a sort of a pavement. The older people clapped and applauded as they paced towards the palace. Benni smiled at all of them and bowed in a few young girls’ direction; they blushed while Mats winced. It was the slightest movement of his muscles, but Marco couldn’t miss it, riding close to the Lord Advisor.

When they arrived at the palace, and the gates were closed after them, Marco jumped out of his saddle grateful. He enjoyed riding, but he still hadn’t gotten used to it. He was determined to pick up riding in his real life, too. If they were to return to their world, that was.

The Höwedes castle’s keeper rushed forward to welcome them and he gave out instructions to the servants waiting along the walls. Everything worked in a well-practiced manner, and before Marco could notice it, someone took the reins of his horse from him and another servant stopped in front of him, ready to escort him to his chambers.

“That won’t be necessary, boy.” Olli stepped forward. “The prince only accepted Lord Höwedes's generous invitation for dinner. After that, we will be riding on. You should tell that to your master.” He said sternly, taking his gloves off in the meantime.

The young servant nodded half-afraid. Another group of servants, these dressed in complete black, left a building that looked like a crypt and they hurried over to the late lord’s remains. They lifted the coffin carefully, taking it with them back to the crypt, their undertaking overlooked by Lady Frieda. Marco shivered when he saw the old woman. She was her old self again: stern, determined and not showing any emotions at all, although the blond was sure that she would bemoan her husband once more at night.

Marco wasn’t left with much time to muse over what he had seen. The next moment, Marcel and Mario stopped by his side and before he could say anything to them, Olli gave out a few orders.

“You should go to the kitchen and see if the servants prepare your prince’s meal as they should. Be careful and look out! One of my men will be at the kitchen and if anything happens, tell him. Don’t act on your own. The prince’s life is in danger, and a dead prince won’t thank you for your heroics.” The blond knight emphasized the importance of their tasks much to Marco’s discomfort. He’d rather not hear any mentions of him potentially ending up dead.

“I want to stay by the prince’s side.” Marcel said with his head held high, his hand on the handle of his sword.

“I’m sure you do.” Kirch met his gaze with the same contemptuous look he had worn while talking to any of the servants in the past minutes. “But you will go to the kitchen and let me secure the prince’s safety.”

As far as he was concerned, the discussion was over and he quickly turned over to his men, telling them where to stand and what to look out for. His little army had indeed grown since they had left Dortehan, Marco noted.

“It will be better if you listen to him.” He gave in with a sigh. He could see that Marcel wasn’t very pleased, but his obedience won in the end. He nodded and turned around, heading for the kitchen. Mario sent Marco a last look that was extremely hard to decipher, but he followed Marcel too.

 

* * *

 

If Mario thought the yard crowded, he didn’t know what to say about the kitchen. There were so many cooks and maids running up and down along with servant boys standing next to huge trays, ready to carry the dinner to the castle’s great hall. Mario would have felt lost if it wasn’t for Marcel. He walked over to an older man who seemed to be the boss of everyone here. Marcel explained what their task here was. The butler didn’t look very pleased with their appearance, but he agreed with a nod and showed them a corner where they wouldn’t be in the way of anyone but could see everything going on.

Mario stuck to Marcel’s side and hid behind him. He still wasn’t used to being ordered. On the pitch, he was ready to carry out his coach’s instructions, because they were most like advice, or guidelines to make sure that everyone played the same way, in one system. But in these castles, the men in charge had an aura around them that shouted superiority and Mario felt intimidated not once.

He tried to get rid of his troubling thoughts and instead focused on the maids putting food on the trays. There was no way to find out if any of those were poisoned or not; a fact that Marcel was ready to point out as he started to fume. Mario found it slightly amusing. The other one was obviously eager to take orders, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have an opinion on them.

“…stupid knights in shining armors think they know it all…” Mario caught a particularly heated comment from his fellow and had to press his lips into a thin line to stop himself from snickering.

Marcel barely finished his rant when Erik and Julian entered the kitchen and without talking to the butler, headed straight where Marcel and Mario were standing. Mario couldn’t miss the maids whispering as Julian made way through them. He must have been very popular among the servants in the castle and this interest would only get bigger with Julian becoming the lord’s personal servant. But even more amusing than the maids’ laughter was the jealous look Erik sent in every possible direction. He found it hard to keep up with his love, but he would not let Julian out of his sight.

As they walked past the long table with the trays, Julian stopped at each and checked the food stacked on it. Mario didn’t find it too hygienic to lift every piece of meat or even smell them, not to mention the effectivity of it, but surely he was the only one in the room who thought this way. Everyone else watched Julian make his way through the many meals as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“That is Lady Frieda’s dinner!” The butler stopped between Julian and the last tray of food before the young servant could touch it. They held each other’s glances for a long moment, but Julian nodded and walked over to the prince’s servants.

“Have you seen anything that you didn’t like?” He asked in an all-important manner as if he was ready to act about practically anything. Apparently, the satisfaction of the castle’s respectable guests was his priority.

“Nothing, Draxler.” Marcel said. He wasn’t going to yield to Julian’s plays. He saw him for what he was: a servant. Yes, his lord was important in this part of the country, but it didn’t mean that the prince’s servant wasn’t in a higher stature in their community. “Hasn’t the prince sent you after me? Maybe he needs help to get presentable for dinner?”

“No, Sir Kirch made it clear that there wouldn’t be much time for pleasantries at the table.” Erik explained, not hiding what he thought of the knight’s practical but crude way of thinking. “He wants the food served in a few minutes and you’ll be on your way again after an hour. They just needs some time for the horses to rest.”

“Unless the prince pleases otherwise.” Marcel pointed out.

“I don’t think he will have any chance to–”

“Gregor!” The butler’s bellowing shout drowned out the end of Erik’s sentence.

Everyone looked at the source of the sound and the big excitement. The old man was scowling at a servant not much older than Mario. The boy was standing in front of his master subdued, his head hanging low and clutching his flank. Mario couldn’t make out his face in the dim light, but he was sure that he would have seen regret and guilt in his eyes. He felt somewhat sympathetic of the servant, because the scene resembled his first meeting with Fips. He only hoped that there was no reason for the butler to have a horsewhip in the kitchen and at least Gregor’s backside would be spared.

“Good of you to finally turn up!” The butler yelled at the top of his lungs. “Should I guess where have you been all this time? I sent for you at least an hour ago! Which maid could enjoy your company this time?”

“None, Butler.” The boy whispered in a faint voice. “I was at the–”

“I don’t care about it!” The older man shouted. “Get over to the others!” He ordered and Gregor started off said way. “And straighten your back!” The butler called after him.

The boy did so with visible discomfort. He stopped clutching his hip as he joined the line behind the table and stood behind the tray with Lady Frieda’s food. The servant next to him tried to cheer him up with a pat on his shoulder, but Gregor only hissed in pain.

“Well, it looks like this time the girl’s brother ran faster than our Gregor.” Julian noted with a huge grin. “He’s the most useless boy ever to serve in the castle. I don’t even know how he had found a place here. Probably some foreign lord left him here as thanks for the late Lord Höwedes. Although he is more like a curse than a gift, if I’m being honest.”

He would have gone on with spicy stories about Gregor’s supposed past-time activities, but he was cut short with a little bell starting to ring, signaling that the dinner should be served. The butler stopped next to the table and gave out orders for the servants to pick up the trays. There was a certain order between them, each of them finding his place in the line easily.

“Let’s go! We will have to stand by our lord’s sides when the dinner is served.” Julian said and the four of them left the kitchen.

Marcel didn’t like to be ordered around, but there wasn’t much he could do, after all, he had to be ready to serve the prince in a minute or so. They halted on their way to wash their hands, although the water they used didn’t remind Mario of the fresh water that flowed from his tap in his Munich home at all.

The yard looked less crowded, the horses gone and the mercenaries Kirch had chosen along with members of the royal guard on patrol. Julian led the way and in two minutes, they entered the great hall.

It was much smaller than the one in Bay Town, Mario realized immediately. It was a rather low hall. At the end of it, right above the huge wooden table, the Höwedes crest hung on the wall. Its top grazed the ceiling and if Mario stood on his tiptoes, he could have easily reached the bottom of it. There were two other, smaller tables in the hall, but no one sat at them. There was only Lord Höwedes, Lady Frieda, Mats, Marco and Kirch in the room.

It was the most horrible dinner company ever, Mario noted to himself. Kirch looked totally uncomfortable sitting in a chair. He most probably preferred a loaf of bread shared between him and his brothers-in-arms over such a dinner. Mats sat between Kirch and Lady Frieda with a sour expression, mostly because of the latter’s closeness. Not that the old lady was more pleased with the man sitting on her left. She herself was sitting on Benni’s left and Marco closed the row, taking place right next to the lord of the castle. Neither of them spoke and Mario didn’t see any chance that it would change in the course of the evening.

While the brunet mused on this, the other three servants stopped behind their lords. Mario was clueless about where he was supposed to go. He walked over to the table on shaky legs and looked at Marcel for some help.

“Sir Kirch.” The other servant mouthed, but it didn’t evade said man’s attention.

“I’ve got my hands, boy, I don’t need you to fill my cup!” The blond knight said sternly when Mario turned towards him. “But maybe Lady Frieda will appreciate your service.”

“Oh no, thank you for your generosity, Sir, but young Draxler is more than capable of looking after both Benedikt’s and my wishes. Especially since I’m not much of a great eater.” She tried to start a little chat that died before it could really begin.

The next moment, the doors were opened and the dinner was carried into the hall. The servants put the trays down with the same security they had shown picking them up in the kitchen and they retired to the other end of the hall, ready to fulfill any demand that would come up during the meal.

Only Mario didn’t know his place. He stood behind Marco, but he felt completely needless there. He sent a cry for help in the blond’s direction, but unless Marco didn’t have eyes in the back of his head, there was no way he would notice it.

“Um, Lord Höwedes.” Marco spoke up nonetheless. “Would it be great trouble to have some more plates brought in here? There is a long journey ahead of us and I would be glad if Marcel and Mario didn’t accompany me with grumbling bellies.”

“I see you still continue your mission to deliberate your servants, My Prince.” Lady Frieda noted with a smirk, but Benni didn’t share her opinion.

“Of course, My Prince! As you please!” He said and waved for the servants. Gregor reacted first and he hurried out of the hall as much as he could. He really looked like every move hurt him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night in my castle, My Prince?” Benni asked. “The roads aren’t as safe as they used to be, and I’d rather know you inside my walls.”

“The sun is still up.” Kirch answered instead of Marco. “We can travel some miles before it sets, and then we won’t have to travel at night. If we want to get to the border on time, we can’t waste any minute. This meal will already take longer than necessary.” He fumed.

“I see.” Benni nodded and turned to Marco. “I will make sure that your food stacks will be refilled though. And please, stop on your way back. It will be an honor to welcome Princess Kathy in our castle.”

“Of course, Lord Höwedes.” Marco sent the other blond an apologetic glance. Kirch really wasn’t the most pleasant dining partner. “I will be glad to show her your hospitability.” He added in a melancholic voice, making a promise they wouldn’t keep.


	31. On The Road Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have great fun writing this story right now, I have the rest of it clear in my mind. I hope you still enjoy it, and you will share your thoughts with me. This is once again a bit slower chapter, but there will be plenty of things happening in the next update, so get ready for it! :-)

“You’re getting better at being a prince.” Mario pointed out an hour after they had left the Höwedes castle.

Neither of them was in the mood to travel. The dinner sated them fully and Mario was surprised that he could even stand up from the table. The road got better, or maybe they only got used to the constant shaking that now felt like rocking and Mario thought that he would fall asleep any moment, although there was still at least two hours until sunset. Benedikt had offered them his best chambers (he practically offered them to Marco), but Kirch was adamant. He wanted to be on the road again and spend the night in a much less comfortable inn or even worse, in the middle of nothing.

“Don’t tell me about it.” Marco sighed. “It’s humanly impossible to smile this much and be polite all the time.”

“Oh yes, the German referees could talk for hours about Marco Reus’s legendary friendliness.” Mario snickered.

“What do you mean by that?” Marco frowned. For a moment, Mario didn’t know if he was offended or not, but then, a quick look told him that his friend honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

“Come on, Marco! Be a bit self-critical. You know that you always shout at referees.” Mario nudged him in the arm.

“Only when they made a blunder or seem to be blind.” The blond retorted and Mario burst out laughing. Marco soon joined him.

Mario enjoyed spending time with his friend the way he hadn’t done in a long time. Everything had happened so quickly in this world. He knew that just a day ago, he was mad at the blond, but now, that was gone. In the end, they only had each other and Mario didn’t want to risk losing his only connection to his real life, the safety he knew so well.

They relied on each other, and it brought them closer than they were at home. This unknown environment magnified everything. Mario saw clearly what Marco meant to him, and he could only hope that it was the same the other way around. Looking in those hazel eyes, he remembered how Marco could always make him smile and laugh, how he cheered him up, how he made everything look brighter. Sunny could have been Mario’s nickname, he got in Dortmund, but Marco fed that always beaming sun their teammates considered him to be. And ever since his departure to Munich, his sun was getting colder and colder.

 

* * *

 

Marco didn’t know how or when he had fallen asleep, but he was awaken by the sound of a mild row going on right next to the coach. He looked around quickly. Mario was asleep, leaning against his shoulder, snoring quietly. Marco slipped away carefully, not to wake the younger one up and climbed over to the door.

“…he must be very tired! Tomorrow morning, he must show his best side for the Princess.” He heard Marcel argue. His friend was keeping his voice down, but it was still full of venom, and Marco didn’t have to wait for the other man to speak up to guess who Marcel’s partner in this row was.

“He is a grown man. He can look after himself, there’s no need for you to solve all his problems, boy.” Kirch growled. “When he is too tired, he will let me know. I’m sure about that. And even if he doesn’t, he won’t break because of missing a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you sure that this is what you are supposed to care about? Because I thought your only concern should be his safety. Tell me, how is an inn less safe than a hastily built camp in the middle of a meadow?” Marcel challenged the knight.

“For starters, inns are well-known in this part of the country. If someone wants to attack the prince, they will surely focus on them. And secondly, we can set up the camp any way it is needed for the prince’s safety. Do you want to keep educating me on fighting or can we both do what we are the best at, _servant_?”  He hissed the last word.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marco pulled away the curtain and glared at the two men riding next to the coach. They both looked back at him in surprise. The sun wasn’t on the horizon anymore, a thick stripe of orange the only reminder of its presence during the day. And it was getting cold, Marco realized immediately.

“My Prince,” Marcel reacted first, “I was explaining to the knight that we should have already stopped. We’ve just passed a comfortable inn. I know that place, I’ve already spent a few nights there. Maybe we could turn around and sleep there?”

Before Marco could open his mouth, Kirch hurried to share his standpoint. “My Prince, with all due respect, I think it is the best if we keep going today as much as we can. The border isn’t that far any more, and if we have a camp near it, you could welcome your princess with a lunch and a place for her to rest.” He explained. “I also don’t trust those inns. You just can’t know whom you can trust these days.”

“Oh, just look at him!” Marcel snapped. “He is clearly exhausted! Maybe he was already asleep! We must stop right now. The prince needs his sleep.” Kirch’s answer was a rolling of his eyes.

“Could you please stop this?” Marco hushed them. “I was sleeping, you are right, Marcel, and if you two hadn’t started a fight over nothing, I would probably still be asleep. So thank you very much for that.” He scolded the duo, although it was only Marcel feeling guilty. “How far away is the next inn?”

“At least two hours. Maybe more like three.” Kirch answered, seemingly satisfied with the prince choosing his side when ending the row.

“I don’t want to travel that much.” Marco said. “Sir, when you find a suitable place for our camp, stop. I don’t want the people to get too tired. We should all rest, we’ve already traveled a lot.”

“You don’t have to worry about my people, My Prince.” The knight said with pride in his eyes. He even straightened his back even more, if that was possible. “They are used to this life. They will bear the rigors of traveling.”

“I’ve said stop at the next good place.” Marco repeated and he pulled back the curtain, leaving the two grown-up kids on their own. He was sure that both Marcel and Olli could continue this argument for hours if he didn’t put an end to it.

“I’ll tell the builders to ride forward and put up the tent.” Marcel volunteered and he rode away, Marco heard it over the sounds of the coach’s wheels.

Mario had woken up in the meantime and now he measured him with sleepy eyes, a mischievous smile forming in the corner of his lips. Marco knew very well what he was thinking. He was about to make another comment about how princelike Marco had become. He wouldn’t mean it in a bad way, though. His look was full of pride, and it made Marco happy. It was strange, but knowing that he pleased Mario and met his expectations had always been more important to him than his own satisfaction.

Maybe it was because Mario never hid his feelings. Marco could tell from a single look if the brunet was satisfied with him or disappointed. He wasn’t like Marco’s teammates now. He was ready to praise and ready to criticize, but he always did that openly. Marco could read him like an open book, at least to some extent. Under that layer, Mario was the biggest mystery, something he thought he would never solve.

“I’ve had the most wonderful dream.” Mario said. “This whole world disappeared around us and we were on our yacht again, sipping cocktails all day long and swimming in the sea.”

“I tell you, if we get back home, drinking cocktails will be the first thing I stop doing.” Marco laughed. “Who knows, maybe that’s what got us in trouble in the first place.”

“Are you going to tell me that you don’t like my cuba libres?” Mario feigned resentment.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with them. It’s the morning after I have problems with.” Marco teased him. It was odd how they found a common tone that easily when it really was just the two of them. They smiled and laughed together, being the two careless young men they were on their holiday.

And right there, Marco wished he had told Kirch to keep going. Maybe it would have been for the best if they never even stopped and Marco could talk with Mario for eternity.

 

* * *

 

The camp was almost completely set up by the time the coach stopped in the middle of it. The ground was dry and Marco couldn’t thank enough for it. He didn’t wish to walk nor sleep in the mud. A huge tent – probably his – was already standing, and two others were being put up. One looked like a kitchen of a sort, and the third one would serve as the soldiers’ sleeping place for the few hours they wouldn’t be on watch during the night. Kirch took charge as soon as he rode into the camp. He didn’t even climb out of his saddle, to let everyone know that he was the one giving out orders. His horse tramped down the grass everywhere and Marcel watched him with a stern look whenever he got too close to Marco’s tent.

The camp didn’t fill with much life even despite the considerably big number of people in it. Everyone was tired and Marco noticed the wrung out faces of the cooks who didn’t waste any time heating up dinner from the stock Benedikt had given to them. The blond made sure that everyone heard the loud thank you he gifted the cooks and servants and his example was followed by a few soldiers, sneaking some homeliness into this grim camp. Half of the guards didn’t even get a break, already standing on duty, doing patrols around the tents. Olli even sent out a few scouts to watch the surroundings and let them know if something out of order was happening. Marco hoped from the bottom of his heart that it wouldn’t come to that. He found a sword in one of the cases with his things, but he didn’t want to try out if he would be able to swing it.

Despite the warm weather during the day, the night brought cool air from the mountains sprawling out on the north. Marco didn’t quite find any clothes that resembled pajamas, and the freezing breeze blowing his face now and then definitely ruled out any chance that he would undress instead of dressing up. A campfire burned just outside his tent, but not close enough. And Kirch forbade it to light a fire inside or at least closer. He didn’t want to let Marco stay in the light. His precautions were getting on Marco’s nerves even though they were only meant to protect him. But then, he didn’t see much difference in freezing to death and being slaughtered by a band of assassins.

It was only his exhaustion that made him get ready for sleep. He climbed out of his pompous clothes and put on the loosest and warmest clothes he could find. He most probably looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care. He could never bear the cold, and this wasn’t any different in this world, either.

Mario was sitting in his tent, buried in his thoughts. He was biting down on his lower lip and he stared in front of himself with a dull expression in his eyes. Marco knew better than to disturb him in this state. Mario was a smart man, no matter what others might have thought about him. Maybe he was already musing on a way to unravel this conspiracy and get them home. It would be so perfect, because Marco saw no chance that he would ever come up with anything. His mind was occupied with staying in his role all the time. It was draining enough for him.

“Aren’t you going to go to sleep?” He asked in the end, already covering himself in the huge fur. He had a mattress of a sort between him and the ground, but Mario couldn’t enjoy such luxury. Marco only dared to ‘summon’ him to his tent for the night. He knew that any other wishes would have raised more eyebrows than necessary, and it wouldn’t have been good, especially not directly before his engagement.

“In a minute.” Mario shook his head, rudely awaken from his musings. He walked over to the little bowl of water standing in the corner of the tent and quickly washed his face. He grabbed the thin rug that would serve as his blanket for the night and he lay down on the ground. “Good night!” He said and turned his back to Marco.

It was almost complete darkness in the tent, and the blond couldn’t see his friend. He didn’t know if he had done something wrong, or there was another explanation for Mario’s strange and distant behavior. Maybe he was still busy with his thoughts, Marco tried to calm himself down, but a few seconds later, he realized what the problem was.

“Are you cold, Mario?” He asked when he heard a rattling sound coming from the brunet’s direction.

“No, I’m fine.” Mario groused not very convincingly.

“Hell, you aren’t! Your teeth are clattering!” Marco smiled under his breath. Of course Mario wasn’t going to admit his discomfort. “Come here, there’s plenty of space for both of us under this fur. And you can choose some clothes from that chest.”

“No, I’ve told you I’m fine.” Mario repeated, more annoyed.

“Okay, then freeze to death!” Marco pouted and turned on his other side. It worked. Mario spoke up immediately.

“Thanks for your offer, but I can’t risk it. What if anyone finds us like that… news travel fast in this world and when the princess hears it…” Mario explained, fighting with the coldness in his body.

“Marcel!” Marco yelled. His loyal servant’s head appeared in the tent’s entrance four seconds later. “Could you please make sure that no one enters the tent without you waking me up? I want to be presentable for my visitors.”

“Yes, My Prince! Of course, My Prince!” Marcel nodded and disappeared.

“There! Any other objections?” Marco asked with a satisfied grin.

“Great! Now everyone will think that you and I– you know what!” Mario groused.

“I don’t care what Marcel or anyone else will think.” Marco shrugged. “I won’t let you freeze to death. Come here, Mario! We need to sleep a bit. Tomorrow will be a very long day.” He lifted his cover and at last, the brunet stood up and walked over carefully to Marco’s mattress.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

“Don’t even mention it.” Marco said. As Mario climbed under the fur, Marco realized how cold his friend really was. “God, you are like ice!” He cried out. “Here!” He wrapped his arms around Mario’s body and pulled him closer to him. He didn’t give any chance for the shorter one to protest. “Better?”

“Yes.” Mario almost moaned when Marco started to warm him with his own body heat. “Thank you, Marco!”

“You’re welcome, Sunny!” Marco smiled even though Mario couldn’t see it. “Good night!”


	32. A Passionate Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We take a little detour from the main happenings, but I wanted to include this chapter, I hope you will like it, too. :-)

Mats gazed in the direction where Marco had rode away hours ago. He was still wearing the clothes dirty from the road and the moon was already high up the sky, but he wasn’t tired. Even if he would have lain down, he wouldn’t have been able to sleep the tiniest bit. His mind was racing and he couldn’t make his thoughts stop. No matter how hard he tried, they flew him after the royal coach and he kept musing about Marco.

He had always considered the blond his true brother. His little brother, someone whom he had to protect. It was simple as that, a law that nature dictated to him. And yet, that little brother had grown up in just a few days. The Marco that had gotten in the coach on the Höwedes castle’s yard wasn’t the same prince Mats had come to know over the years. This new prince was growing up to the expectations set for him. He took responsibility and he was concerned with the matters of the kingdom. He acted like a leader, a real heir, not just a prince misusing his position in the court.

But what he admired the most in Marco was the way the blond stood up for his love. Any other spoiled brat would have gotten rid of a servant who had put him into trouble. Not Marco. He just kept taking Mario’s side and it paid off. Mats had no idea what had gotten into the king for letting Mario accompany Marco on this journey. After all, he was about to meet his princess, and the rumors surely didn’t stop at the borders. But if Mats wanted to be honest to himself, he knew very much what made Jürgen change his mind – Marco’s self-certainty. It was contagious and now Mats half-wished that Mario would indeed be able to help them to track down the conspirators. It would have been a due reward for Marco’s years-long struggles for him. If only Mats had had the same courage when it came to standing up for his own love…

“Matsi?” The vary man now asked in a whisper.

Mats spun around. There he stood. Lord Benedikt Höwedes. He was wearing simple clothes, something he must have put on in a hurry to evade curious eyes. The exhaustion of the last days was now clearly visible on his face. He eyed Mats with a sour expression. His eyes had lost their sparkle, they were blunt now.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I couldn’t.” Mats shrugged. He kept his voice down. Even though his chambers had thick walls, Erik was sleeping next doors, and a few guards surely stood nearby. “I could ask you the same.”

“I couldn’t close my eyes.” Benni sighed and slumped down on a recliner. Mats walked over to him and put his hand on the blond’s shoulder. Benni grabbed it quickly. “I don’t want tomorrow to come.” He said in an emotionless voice, staring at nothing, speaking to the wall in front of him. “All those _noble_ men will come here and try to get to some sort of an advantage over my father’s corpse. They will bring gifts to me, hoping that I will return the favor. Could you imagine anything worse?”

“No.” Mats said. The king had sent him here to be Benni’s support, but he realized what it really meant only now. He crouched down next to his love and looked him deep in the eyes. “But I will be there next to you and will help you, if you want that.”

Benni stared at him, a myriad of emotions flicking across his face in a split second. In the end, his lips curled up in a weak smile only for him to get serious again. “I need to feel you.”

“I’m right here.” Mats said, putting his other hand on his host’s knee.

“No.” Benni shook his head. “I need to feel you close. As close as it is only possible.” He announced without any prettiness, his eyes now blurred by the sheer lust that surged through every cell of his body.

“Right here? Right now?” Mats looked around, as if to make sure that there was no one else in the room. Benni nodded. “What if they find us?”

“They won’t.” Benni said and Mats believed him.

They held each other’s eyes for another second and then Mats stood up, pulling Benni up and he pressed their lips together. It was a fiery kiss, bruising their lips, teeth clattering against each other, tongues pushing one another out of the way. They soon were panting like horses after a fast gallop and their pupils were blown with their anticipation rising.

Benni pushed Mats gently towards the bed and when he fell down on it, the blond climbed him like a predator would climb its prey. He straddled the raven-haired and stared at him for a moment in amazement. Then, he grabbed his clothes and tore them off him.

He bent down and pressed his lips on his chest, feeling the muscles move under the tanned skin. He licked, sucked, and kissed, a crazy carousel of sensations that pushed Mats on the edge of sanity. He started to moan helplessly and his hands moved on their own accord as they slipped under Benni’s clothing.

It made the blond stop for a moment, only to take his clothes off. His pale trunk made him look fragile at the first look, but Mats knew perfectly well that Benni was a great warrior, but someone who preferred to use his mind as his weapon. He admired the sight in front of him. He didn’t get to see Benni this way as often as he wished.

Benni soon returned to his previous undertaking and he pushed his tongue into Mats’s navel, making sure that the younger one knew what was coming. Not that he needed any further clarification. His hands were already kneading the blond’s backside, finding their way forward, towards Benni’s groin on fire. The paradise that would be the source of so much pleasure this night.

In the end, he grabbed Benni’s hips firmly and shoved his love. He caught the blond off-guard and he rolled him on his back. He dabbed countless kisses on his trunk, sliding always lower until his chin hit on the raging erection awaiting his gentle treatment. He wrapped his fingers around Benni’s penis and gave it a few strokes before he placed his head above the proud manhood reaching high up. He took a deep breath and he took Benni in his mouth.

The loud moan Benni let out almost didn’t reach Mats’s brain. He was overwhelmed by the sensation on his tongue. He felt the salty proof of his love’s excitement, he felt the veins throbbing inside his mouth, he felt the soft skin moving up and down as he bobbed on that incredible bunch of muscle that would send Benni into a land of joy and satisfaction.

Mats’s own manhood sprung to life as he slowly knelt down at the end of the bed to find a more comfortable position. He enclosed it in a tight grasp and started to stroke himself. He would have liked to just pump it and not stop until he would shoot the load that was screaming to get out of his aching balls. Who knows, maybe he would be able to go even longer than that. He had waited for this night for such a long time without even realizing it.

He swirled his tongue around Benni’s penis and took a quick glance at the blond lying in front of him. Benni stared at the ceiling and was taking deep breaths. With one hand, he held onto the sheets, the other was grabbing Mats’s hair as he urged him to go faster and give him more. This wasn’t the lovemaking young lovers shared in a secluded garden, surrounded by roses and the most delicious smells in the world. Benni and Mats were about to take each other driven by sheer lust and it was exactly what both of them needed right now.

The blond’s manhood slid deeper than ever before and Mats pulled back, his reflex kicking in. He quickly wiped away the single tear that welled up in his eye and he climbed on top of Benni. He squatted down above him and he grabbed the post of the bed closest to him as he slowly lowered himself on his love.

The ecstasy dumbed the pain he felt as he took in Benni’s spear. He went slowly and the blond didn’t rush him. They locked their eyes and breathed together as they lived through the sensation together. It was then that Mats realized that they really were meant for each other. His tight heat enclosed Benni’s manhood perfectly and the hard muscles pushing against his inner walls set his world on fire. He would have cried out in the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, but there was no air left in his lung. The moan that escaped his throat was soundless.

He was stretched to his utmost limit when his backside hit Benni’s thighs. Mats sat there for a long moment, relishing feeling of being filled. The blond looked at him with a slight worry in his eyes, but Mats dispelled it with a weak smile. Benni nodded and his hands ran up Mats’s flank, resting on the back of his neck as the lord of the house pulled him down and kissed him. The slight move made Benni’s manhood brush against his prostate and Mats didn’t see the face of the sweetest man in the world anymore. But then, maybe there really were stars shining in that pair of dark hazel eyes that still held so many secrets from Mats.

Then, Mats closed his eyes and focused on the lips kissing him senseless. He didn’t have much of his self-control and he lost the last shreds of it when Benni started to circle his hips. He thrust into him gently and it was more like a massage, but Mats felt like a ragdoll, a victim to his own emotions. He was tossed between a dozen of feelings within each second and his brain couldn’t process it anymore. He was feeling everything and nothing at the same moment. The greatest possible thing was happening to him, and yet, he didn’t know how he lived through it. Benni must have found the core of Mats’s being and get control over it, because Mats couldn’t remember another time when he felt so out of his body and yet so present in the moment.

His own manhood was harder than ever and his muscles were stretched to their limit. He had no idea how close he was to his orgasm. Maybe it had already happened. He didn’t care. What he was feeling was wonderful, everything he had ever dreamed of. His whole groin had become one massive nest of pleasure and it burned him from inside, a tingling that never subsided and he never wanted to cease.

Benni’s thrusts now came faster, an unmistakable sign that he was chasing his fulfillment. He pushed deeper. Sweaty skin hit sweaty skin and filled the room with short slapping sounds. Benni’s withheld ragged moans joined them seconds later and Mats felt something warm filling him. The blond held him tight, their bodies pressed together, the silver moonlight illuminating them.

Benni stayed inside him for a long time until he went limp. Mats rolled on his back and he realized only then the pool of his creamy semen pooling on Benni’s belly. A smirk spread across his face as he lay with his head on his crossed hands. His body was covered in sweat and he still hadn’t caught his breath. But he was happy, happier than he had ever been. He could think clearly, and that moment, he knew what he wanted, what he needed in life.

Something similar must have crossed Benni’s mind because he sighed and snuggled closer to Mats, putting his head on the raven-haired’s chest, right above his heart. His fingers played with the thin line of hair under Mats’s navel and Mats’s hand found its way to Benni’s arm, gently stroking it to the same rhythm.

They didn’t talk for a long time. They didn’t need to. They knew what the other one felt and no words could describe it. If they had tried, they would have failed and it would have ruined the magic of the moment. They let their hearts do the talking and their soft whispering could be heard in the chamber, Mats swore.

Benni moved again and he climbed higher, in search for Mats’s mouth. When he found it, he pressed their lips together for a long smooch. When he pulled back, he grinned and it looked like life itself had returned to his body. His cheeks were red with energy and his eyes glowed again. He was once again the man Mats had fallen in love with. A young warrior with a heart full of love.

“So, Matsi? How does it feel to break probably every possible rule of the Church and live the life of a heretic?” He asked with a playful smile.

“If this is a sin in the eyes of the Creator, I’m not sure I want to live my life in service of him.” Mats laughed, but he became serious in a split second.

Benni’s innocent question had brought him back to earth. They couldn’t keep this up. This was just one night. They wouldn’t repeat it and the sour taste of this realization crept into his throat. Not that it mattered. He didn’t care about the future. He wanted to enjoy this wonderful moment until it lasted.

“I wonder if you could fulfill your mission from the king and advise the new Lord Höwedes.” Benni mused out loud. “So? What do you advise me, Lord Advisor?”

He was teasing Mats and his smile was contagious. “I advise that you stay here for the night. I happen to know your lover, and he wouldn’t take it gratefully if you left him right now.” He meant it with the same playfulness Benni used, but the blond frowned and pulled back from him, making Mats’s heart jump. So that was it. This was the moment when it would all end…

“Lover?” Benni repeated the word as if it was strange to him. “No.” He shook his head. “You are not my lover. You aren’t a toy to me that I will get out whenever I feel like it and then put it back somewhere out of sight. I could never do that to you, Matsi. You are my best friend and no-one has ever understood me the way you do. You are the only one I’ve ever loved and ever will. I am so glad that King Jürgen has sent you here. Because I need you, Mats. Not just now, not for one night.” He explained and he looked Mats deep in the eyes, giving emphasis to his next words. “But for the rest of my life.”


	33. Troubling Developments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some peaceful chapters, there's more action in this update again. I'll be honest, I didn't see this turn coming myself, but when I sat down to write, I knew I had to go this way, I hope you will like it, as well. Please, let me know what you think of it. :-)

Marco wasn’t sure how one was supposed to wake up on the day when one would meet his future wife, but he was pretty damn sure that a raging hard-on against his best friend’s butt wasn’t a part of it. He woke with the first rays of sunshine and he almost cried out in surprise when he realized just how closely he held Mario. His arm was wrapped around the shorter one and their bodies were practically glued together. Marco told himself that they only clung to each other so much because of the night’s chill and that his erection was only the usual morning thing. He would have believed it if only Mario’s sweet scent hadn’t filled his nostrils in a way that made him yearn for more or if the brunet hadn’t groaned out in frustration when Marco carefully pulled his arm back.

He lay next to Mario propped up on his elbow and thought about the day ahead of him. He didn’t know how he was supposed to get through the meeting with Cathy. He felt sick just by thinking about it. There were so many questions and doubts weighing on his shoulders that he felt sure to crumble under them. It would have been so easy if he could have shared them with someone, but he was alone. He would have felt stupid talking to Marcel who wasn’t the best friend he knew, and he hadn’t the heart to further trouble Mario.

The brunet had already suffered enough since they had appeared in this world, partly because of Marco. The blond lifted the fur they were lying under and he saw that Mario’s clothes had slid up a little bit, unveiling the scars after he had been beaten. He still hadn’t told Marco who had hurt him, and it troubled Marco more than it should have. There could be only one reason for Mario being so secret about it: he wanted to protect someone. Maybe someone Marco knew, only in a completely different way. This wasn’t what particularly disturbed the blond. It was the fact that Mario apparently didn’t trust him enough. And that was why Marco couldn’t share his worries with the brunet.

There was a barrier between them that they wouldn’t be able to overcome. Marco wasn’t sure if it had emerged after Mario’s departure to Munich, or if it had existed even before that. He only knew that it was there, an integral part of their relationship. Marco still had hope that they could tear it down with a long and sincere talk, but the words they would have to say for that were too heavy and it would take them an amount of courage neither of them possessed. If only Marco could search deep in his soul to find something to help him to a strength–

And then it happened. He had lived through it a few times already in this world, but it had never been this intense or sudden. The real Prince Marco surged forward and he was very angry. He emerged with a sudden burst, washing away all of Marco’s mind and taking over full control of his body. The footballer was pushed back into a far corner of his consciousness and the prince shut him up. In fact, Marco would have liked to curl up in a ball and somehow live through the mounting terror the prince created as he tried to reclaim his place in this world.

 

* * *

 

“Marco! Marco!” Mario shook his best friend harder and harder as his despair grew. He was awoken by the blond’s shaking. His muscles contracted involuntarily and it almost looked like he was having a seizure. “Wake up, for fuck’s sake!” He yelled.

“I’m used to much more pleasant waking ups from you.” Marco finally groused when he slowly came to his senses. Mario shoved him against the ground one final time to let out his anger.

“You scared the crap out of me.” The brunet pouted and sat up.

“With what? Sleeping?” Marco looked at him bewildered.

“No, you idiot!” Mario spat accusingly. “You looked like you were dying or something.”

“Well, maybe I was having a bad dream.” Marco mused. “But it’s over now.” He smiled and stood up. “We should get going, what do you say? I don’t want to let the princess wait. It wouldn’t be good on the first day of our engagement.”

He didn’t wait for Mario. He climbed out of their bed of a sort and walked over to the chest with his clothes, styling his hair all the way. Mario didn’t understand what was going on. Maybe it really was just a bad dream and Marco didn’t want to talk about it. It would be understandable, considering what situation he was in.

“Are you going to help me or what?” Marco said impatiently. He was holding some elegant doublet and black pants.

Mario climbed out of the bed. Honestly, he had no idea how one was supposed to put these clothes on, but if he could help Marco anyhow, he would try it. His best friend had surely got out of bed with the wrong foot. As if their day could have been any worse. Mario wasn’t looking forward to the princess’s arrival at all. He couldn’t be by Marco’s side then and it was the only thing that gave him solace of a sort. When Marco wasn’t the jerk he was right now, that is.

With the intense cooperation of both of them, they finally managed to get Marco dressed and the blond waited until Mario put on the simple garments he wore the day before. In the meantime, the prince put on his boots and stood by the tent’s entrance.

“Can we go?” He asked when Mario walked over to him. The brunet nodded weakly and Marco pulled away the sheet covering the entrance.

The early morning sunshine poured into the tent and blinded them for a second. The grass glistened with dewfall and the air was fresher than what Mario had ever smelled in his life. Sure, this world had its advantages over their home, but he would never trade his real life for anything.

“My Prince!” Marcel jumped up from the ground. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity for a more comfortable sleeping place like Mario. He looked disheveled, he probably woke up with Marco stepping out of the tent. “Why haven’t you called for me? I could have helped you get dressed!” He hastened to say, half-blaming himself.

“It’s okay, Marcel.” Marco smiled at him and put his hand on his servant’s shoulder. “Mario was of great help.”

“But shouldn’t you get shaved, My Prince?” Marcel asked.

“No. The princess should see that she is marrying a man.” Marco said with a strange tone in his voice.

“Of course, My Prince.” Marcel nodded. He was now frightened and Mario exchanged looks between the two men anxiously. Something was going on in front of him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it and it troubled him in a way it had always done.

He didn’t get much time to think, though. Marco started off towards the dining tent and Mario was quick to follow him. Behind them, Marcel started to pick up his things and get himself into a presentable state at the same time. He surely wanted to be at his prince’s service once Marco sat down for breakfast.

A few soldiers were sitting on the ground next to the kitchen, munching on a slice of bread. When they noticed Marco and Mario approaching, they started to whisper and a few chuckles broke the morning silence.

“…looks like he said goodbye to his bachelor life with a last high.” One guard noted.

He tried to keep his voice down, but he didn’t quite succeed. Mario felt like he would sink in shame. He had told Marco that. Now everyone thought that they two had had sex! But the blond reacted completely differently. He charged at the guard, grabbed his neck and pulled him up. His eyes glowed furiously and his whole body trembled with anger.

“I could have your tongue cut out for this!” He hissed. “Or have you beheaded and your head put on a spike! Or I could send you to some distant lands so that the barbarians do whatever they would like to do to you once they capture you. And believe me, I could make sure that they capture you.”

“I apologize, My Prince…” The guard stammered. He was begging for his life. Mario had never seen him before, but he couldn’t tell who was the stranger one right now: the guard or his friend?

“What’s going on here?” Kirch rushed forward out of nowhere. He apparently didn’t like having a commotion in his camp, but when he saw that the prince was involved, his anger vanished immediately. “What happened, My Prince?” He asked, this time with much more care.

“Sir, I don’t ever want to see this bastard.” Marco said with a frightening calm and let go of the guard who quickly checked if his neck was alright.

“Of course, My Prince! Forgive me for his behavior.” The knight hurried to say with countless bows and nods.

“And give out the order to break camp. I want to leave for the border after breakfast. The cooks don’t have to come with us, but they should prepare a light meal for when we come back this way. The coach can stay here, the princess will surely have her own and I prefer riding than being carried everywhere.” He instructed Kirch as they entered the dining tent. Marcel had caught up to them and he followed them with Mario.

“I’m not sure it is my responsibility, My Prince. Maybe your servant could talk to the– But of course I will make the arrangements.” He corrected himself mid-sentence when he saw the strange vibe in Marco’s eyes.

“That will be good, Sir!” The prince nodded. “How long will it take us to get back to Bay Town?”

“It depends on when the princess will arrive. But we will be at the Höwedes castle long before dinnertime, I can assure you that.” The knight answered.

“Forget about the Höwedeses!” Marco snapped in a way that made Mario jump in his place. Something was definitely not right here. “I want to get back to Bay Town today!”

“Of course, My Prince!” Kirch nodded and backed out of the tent with his tail between his legs.

Mario didn’t dare to speak and Marcel standing on his right must have felt the same. He didn’t rush over to Marco to help him with his breakfast, he simply waited for the blond to ask for his assistance. Not that it would come to that. Sensing the prince’s obvious bad mood, the cooks and the other servants took extra care to prepare everything perfectly in the way that would please Marco. There wasn’t a misplaced fork, and they always made sure that his cup didn’t remain empty for a long time.

“Ah, that’s what I call delicious wine!” Marco wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaving a pink spot on it. Mario by now was sure that he wasn’t seeing his friend. Marco never drank this way and definitely not this early in the day. Something extraordinary must have happened during the night and maybe there wasn’t a nightmare at all.

His stomach clenched into a tight knot from the realization. This was the real prince Marco and quite honestly, Mario could see why everyone hated him. But he couldn’t care about that right now, because he was alone. His friend was gone and he had no idea where he had gone. Maybe Marco simply returned to their world and was now waiting patiently for Mario to wake up from this dream. But no matter how hard the brunet tried to convince himself, the other possibility appeared in his mind over and over again.

He remembered the witch’s words: their counterparts from this world would try to take over control of their bodies again. In that case, no one could tell what would happen to them. He hoped that Marco was still somewhere in that body, in that mind, just like the real prince had been trapped there when Marco was in control, but he knew that it was a slight hope. And soon enough, his thoughts took a different course and he started to worry about his own well-being. What if the Mario from this world decided to reconnect with his prince? He had been quite calm so far, but there was no guarantee that it would remain the same once he smelled a chance to get back the original order.

“–Are you listening to me?” Marco turned towards him, a mixture of bewilderment and anger on his face. Mario froze in his place. He had no idea what the prince was talking about, and he didn’t want to make the blond angry at him. What if the other one didn’t realize that he wasn’t exactly _his_ Mario?

Marcel came to his help. He held a jug of wine and a cup towards Mario. The brunet shook his head. “No, thank you, My Prince! I see you enjoy it very much, it surely isn’t a wine I am worthy of.” He stammered something very stupid, but he hoped that it would sound polite.

“I don’t want to spare anything from you, Mario.” The prince said and he looked around carefully to check if everyone had heard it and had understood what this sentence really meant. Mario felt no more than a toy and he didn’t like it at all. “But if you don’t want to drink, then I won’t force you. But I want you to get my horse ready. Let’s see how much Fips has taught you in the stables.”

“Of course, My Prince!” Mario hurried to say and rushed out of the tent. He didn’t want to spend more time with this stranger that possessed his friend’s body. In his hurry he forgot completely about the fact that he would probably have problems with putting the saddle on a horse. He just wanted to escape from the choking atmosphere ruling in the tent. He wanted to run away and never get in front of this prince again. He wanted to go home…

Tears welled up in his eyes and he didn’t have the strength to hold them back. He drew back into a secluded part of the camp. He could get invisible easily, with the guards already starting to break camp.

“Mario?” Marcel’s weak voice brought him back to his senses. The other servant walked over to him and inspected him with concern. “Are you alright?”

Mario tried to nod, but the sourness he felt in his mouth didn’t let him do it. He started to weep.

“Shh!” Marcel took him in his arms and started to pat his back. “I don’t know what has happened to him. He is a horrible person, nothing like the prince I know. And I know that you know that, too. You see the good in him. Mario, please, be strong. For Marco! For the Marco you like and love! He needs you more than ever. I have no idea what he wants to try, but you are the only one who can stop him. Please, be there for him and make him see the good in him. Otherwise he will run into his doom.”


	34. The Princess

“They are late.” Marco spat.

They were standing on a hill and watched the beautiful view in front of them. A narrow river flowed at the bottom of the green fields, the border between Dortehan and Bachiano. A small stone bridge was the only thing connecting the two countries. It really was a magnificent scenery, but Mario couldn’t enjoy it wholeheartedly. He was still afraid of the man Marco had become overnight, or rather the other person that had moved into the blond’s body.

“I’m sure they will be here soon, My Prince!” Kirch tried to ease the tension, but to no avail.

“Oh, come on!” The prince snorted. “You can’t trust these Bachiano bastards with anything! I’m sure I’ll have to teach a lot to the princess. She’ll have to learn our ways of living and what needs to be done for things to work.” He reached for his flask and swallowed its content with three huge gulps.

When he noticed that the flask was empty, he shook it frustrated and threw it to Marcel. The servant rushed to his own horse that carried the wine and also water. He had been mixing the two for some time now. Marco didn’t notice it, and this way, he didn’t get completely drunk. He was still standing on his feet, but Mario wasn’t sure if he would be able to climb on his horse. He was amazed by Marcel’s loyalty. This Marco definitely didn’t behave like someone worthy of support, and yet, the short servant didn’t hesitate to serve him and look after him when the prince obviously couldn’t do it for himself.

Mario wished he could do the same, but he was too afraid of the prince. There was a strange glow in Marco’s eyes and whenever he looked at Mario, the brunet didn’t see tenderness there. Yes, the prince loved his Mario, but he knew that the brunet riding by his side wasn’t exactly his love. He looked at Mario as if he wanted to possess him, to get him out of his love’s body and forget him forever. It wasn’t a very pleasant prospect for Mario.

“There they come!” A young guard shouted and pointed in the distance.

Mario saw only a cloud of dust and even that was hard to spot. But whatever caused it, it was getting closer and a few times, the sunshine gleamed on the armors of the Bachiano riders. The guard reached for a looking glass and watched the procession. Then, he reached into his saddle bag and brought out a book. He listed through it and Mario noticed that it was full of crests.

“I see the royal coat of arms, Müller, Richter, Hummels, and a crest I don’t find.” He reported his findings.

“Of course you don’t.” Marco groused. “Alright, let’s meet that shrewd!” He laughed and fumbled to his horse.

The animal smelled the alcohol in its master’s breath and took a step back. Marcel stepped there and grabbed the reins, soothing the horse by petting its nose. But a second later, he had to aid the prince, because Marco couldn’t put his foot in the stirrup. When he finally succeeded on the tenth time, he flung himself into the saddle. He almost fell off on the other side, but he caught his balance in the last moment and he dug his heels into the flanks of his horse, urging the animal forward.

The knights climbed onto their horses, as well, and they unbound the flags they have brought with them from the capital. One guard blew into his trumpet, sounding a melody that rang through the landscape, announcing the arrival of the prince. Mario would have managed to enjoy it if he wasn’t so afraid of his fate right now. Riding behind Marco and looking forward to a whole day with him was one thing, but he didn’t know how the Bachiano lords would react to seeing him. After all, everyone thought that he was the prince’s lover and bringing him with them could be seen as an insult to the princess. An insult that they surely wouldn’t take out on Marco.

They rode to the bridge and waited there for the princess and her cortege. Now Mario was able to see riders in the march and he also heard them. They dictated a quite fast tempo and they were at the other end of the bridge two minutes later. Then, they stopped and a lone knight came forward.

“We are the knights accompanying Princess Cathy of Bachiano into her new home!” He called. Mario recognized Thomas Müller in him immediately. “Let us into your country! We seek no fight and battles! We come with the message of peace and friendship!”

He stopped his horse in the middle of the bridge. Mario was sure that he knew very well that Prince Marco was among the riders waiting on the Dortehan bank of the river, but he had to stick to the formalities. The prince himself wasn’t amused by it. He rolled his eyes and took a gulp from his flask before he answered the knight’s appeal.

“Welcome to our land, Sir!” He shouted. His voice wasn’t royal with his problems forming some of the words. “Please, enter as our guests! I can’t wait to see my wife-to-be.” He added jokingly.

Thomas nodded and turned back in his saddle to wave the others to follow him. His squire was the first one to ride forward, holding a flag that must have been Thomas’s. Another small boy carried the royal flag. Mario recognized its colors from Bay Town’s great hall.

He had to admit that he felt anticipation and he was excited. He couldn’t wait to see Cathy. He couldn’t help it, but the many tales he heard as a little boy about beautiful princesses came up in his mind and his heart was beating somewhere in his throat as he watched the Bachiano lords and knights entering their kingdom. He recognized some of them from Bayern, but others looked completely strange to him and they all measured him with a stern look, their eyes throwing sparks in his direction. They despised him, it was clear.

A guard stood next to Marco and he whispered the names of every important family he recognized. When he came to the flag he didn’t know, Mario’s blood froze. He didn’t know the crest either, but he knew that he had seen it somewhere. A moment later, he remembered where, and the realization didn’t ease his mind at all.

There was no time to warn Marco or Kirch though. He doubted that they would have listened to him anyways. All eyes were focused on the coach crossing the river now. It was nothing like the one Mario and Marco had traveled in. This was much lighter and open. Four women sat in it, the most beautiful ladies Mario had ever seen, and if he hadn’t known who to look for, he couldn’t have guessed which one of them was the princess.

Cathy wore pompous clothes, ones that blew Mario’s mind away. She wore red and white velvet gown, full of pearls and small gems. Her hair was perfectly styled, each curl sitting where it was supposed to be and a silver tiara sat on top of her hair. When the coach stopped next to Marco, the princess stood up. Her long sleeves almost brushed the coach’s floor. But her clothes were nothing compared to how her face shined in the sunshine. She radiated strength and nobility. Mario felt the sudden urge to bow in front of her and he could see that the prince was overcome by the sight in front of him. Maybe he even felt ashamed that he had drunk so much.

“My Lady!” He nodded, welcoming the princess. “The months when we haven’t seen each other only made you more beautiful.” He complimented her and there was nothing but honesty in his words.

“Thank you, My Prince!” Cathy smiled at Marco. Her smile warmed everyone’s hearts and Mario could imagine how ridiculous they must have looked like with their jaws dropped and completely under the spell of the princess’s beauty. “It is a pleasure to finally come here and seal our engagement.” Her lie somehow ruined the impression she had made so far.

“Don’t worry, Princess, I have made sure that we will be dining in Bay Town tonight.” Marco said. “We can start right now, if you wish. My servants wait for us a few miles from here with some light meal and a coach maybe more suitable for our roads, if you please.”

“Thank you, Prince. That would be wonderful.” Cathy said and sat down again.

“Sir Kirch!” Marco yelled and Olli rode forward. “We can leave now.” Marco announced. The knight nodded and ordered the guards to get in formation. A minute later, they were moving again.

The squires carrying the two royal flags rode forward, followed by the strongest knights and their squires. Then came Marco and the princess’s coach, flanked and followed by more guards.

Mario stayed back with the other few servants in the group. He was about to set off when the whole world blacked out around him and the other Mario spoke up in his mind. _Help him, Mario! I’m too weak to do anything, but you can save him. I sense danger and you must protect the prince and your own Marco!_

“Are you alright?” Marcel brought him out of his momentary lapse of consciousness.

For a moment, Mario didn’t know where he was and he looked around bewildered. Then, his senses returned and he nodded at the other servant. Marcel smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

“Let’s go! We should stay close to the prince in case he needs something!”

 

* * *

 

Kirch did everything he could to get them in Bay Town by sundown. They didn’t stop apart for a short stop at the remains of their camp from the previous night. They had a quick lunch and then continued on their journey. Mario tried to remain invisible, which was almost impossible with all the deadly glances he could feel coming towards him from every direction. He was an unwanted person and no one wanted to hide it.

Marco seemingly couldn’t care less about Mario’s discomfort. He rode by the princess’s coach the whole time – in the end, Cathy decided to continue her journey in her own coach. He showed her the country with pride in his voice and when he had no idea where they were and what village they saw in the distance, he relied on Marcel’s knowledge. Cathy’s charm subsided and Marco reached for his flask more often as they got closer to the capital.

They took a different road than the day before. The sun was about to set when they first saw Bay Town in the distance and on their right, in the distance, Mario spotted the Höwedes castle. It bathed in the late evening sunshine and it looked very romantic indeed. How he wished to be there! Somehow, Julian’s and Erik’s presence calmed him down. Maybe it was because they spent much time together in the royal castle before this long travel.

“That”, Marco pointed towards the capital, almost falling out of the saddle, “is your new home, Princess!”

Thomas, who rode a bit closer to them now realized the blond’s tipsiness and he shot a disapproving look in the prince’s direction. The next moment though, his face looked like a sea of tranquility and content. He leaned closer to one of the princess’s ladies and whispered something in her ear. Thinking about it, she reminded Mario of Lisa, Thomas’s wife. They shared a laughter now and looked at Marco at the same time, not hiding who was the subject of their joke. Not that the prince noticed it. He was still too busy staying in the saddle after the huge amount of wine he had drunk since morning.

“I suppose you aren’t very impressed, Princess?” Marco raised his eyebrow after Cathy remained silent for a considerate time.

“It’s not that, Prince.” She hurried to say. “I apologize, it’s just the road… I am too tired to really appreciate the beauty of your home. But I’m sure that with time, and your hospitality, I will feel like this is my home, too. I can’t wait to get to know your people and understand their needs and problems and help them wherever I can.”

She managed to get Marco under her spell again, because the blond simply stared at her. His lips moved a few times, but not a single sound left his throat. Instead, he reached for his flask again. He opened it and was about to raise it to his mouth when he thought of something.

“You can start learning about our culture right now.” He offered the flask to her. “The best wine in Dortehan, I can guarantee you that.”

“Oh no, thank you for your generosity!” Cathy laughed and waved her hands in front of her. “As I have said, the traveling tired me, and I don’t want to be unpresentable when I finally meet your father.”

For one moment, Mario wasn’t sure if she made the comment about being unpresentable on purpose, or was it simply coincidence, but seeing the twinkle in her eyes, he understood that Cathy knew that she was talking to a drunk now. But her amused look would be the least Marco would get tonight. Mario couldn’t imagine how Jürgen would welcome his son after seeing what state he was in.

It took them almost another hour to reach the small huts built around Bay Town. The sun just touched the horizon. A few peasants looked curiously at the procession, but they didn’t come out of their homes. Something completely different awaited them in the city though.

When they were only a few meters from the walls, at least a hundred trumpets sounded and filled the air with music of celebration. The huge gates were opened and as they rode into Bay Town, a crowd welcomed them on both sides of the road, throwing flowers in front of them and everyone stretching their necks to get a glimpse of the princess. Cathy did her job perfectly, waving at the people and smiling all the time. She was doing exactly what she was supposed to do and Marco looked pathetic by her side.

The crowd only got bigger as they approached the royal castle, until a chain of royal guards finally stopped them at the walls of the castle. There, Kehli welcomed them to the capital and invited them in, promising them everything they would need.

Kloppo was standing in the yard with Robert by his side. He nodded at the knights riding at the front and when the coach with the princess stopped exactly in front of them, he walked over there to open the door for Cathy personally.

“I must say the news about your beauty were understatements, Princess.” He smiled at her. Cathy accepted his compliments politely with a curtsy.

Then, Klopp turned towards his son and horror set out on his face when he saw Marco stumbling towards him. Then, his eyes moved on and finally stopped on Mario, but this time, it was anger glowing in them. Mario sighed. He didn’t have an easy evening and night in front of him.


	35. A Disturbing Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a short break, I'm back with a new chapter. I have been concentrating on writing new chapters and if everything goes the right way, I will finish writing next week and then I can post chapters more often. I want to thank you for following my story and rooting for my characters, it means a lot. Finally, I'd like to put some trigger on this chapter, if you are not comfortable with reading some disputable material, you can skip the last scene, although I don't go into details and it has a happy ending. Please, let me know what you think of the new chapter. :-)

Mario felt like all of the tales about royal feasts and celebrations he had listened to when he was a kid had become true in front of his eyes. The king’s palace’s great hall was full of people, all of them cheering and stuffing themselves with the most delicious meals Mario had ever seen. He had had problems getting used to the cuisine in this country, but even his stomach grumbled impatiently when the servants carried in the soup, pork, beef and lamb. A hundred torches made sure that there wasn’t a corner unlit, and a whole band looked after the entertainment of the people with the court jester dancing in the middle, mostly to the amusement of the higher noblemen’s children.

But there was another side of this feast Mario had never heard of. It was the language that the present ones’ eyes spoke in the form of curious or suspicious glances. When one looked further than what could be seen from the outside, the obvious mistrust between the two country’s folks became obvious. Quite honestly, Mario could understand why Jürgen had been so adamant to bind the two lands’ fortunes together with a marriage. Leaving such a hostile neighbor to their son wasn’t what any father would have wanted.

In this hall, literally everyone eyed everyone else. Robert was the busiest from all of them. His eyes scanned the crowd in the first place, but he didn’t forget about the Bachiano lords who hadn’t left their swords in their chambers, however impolite it might have been. They had reassured the First Knight that these were only their ceremonial swords, but Mario knew as much as Robert did, that they were as sharp as any other sword. At least the brunet could relax, because the First Knight had obviously given up on blaming him for everything.

They hadn’t had the chance to find out what Robert had learned from their prisoner. When they arrived, the king was eager to get them to the dinner table as soon as possible, mainly to avert everyone’s attention from his drunk son. Even if Marco had been in the state to think about the assassin kept locked in the catacombs, he surely wouldn’t have inquired about it. He was quite pleased to have a wine jug as his only company and he reached for it very often, his grin widening and his movements losing their sharpness as the evening progressed.

The prince’s behavior didn’t go unnoticed. The nobility chattering at the long tables in the lower part of the hall couldn’t be bothered, but the Bachiano lords weren’t happy to see the future husband of their princess drink himself under the table. The most wary among them was Thomas who had turned out to be Cathy’s personal guard. He wasn’t like Kirch at all. He understood the etiquette the royal court demanded and he sent friendly smiles in every direction when it was expected, but every time, his strict glance returned to the blond prince.

Another Bachiano lord never resting was an older man. He must have been as old as Kloppo, maybe even older by a few years, and his eyes didn’t rest for a second as he scanned over the hall repeatedly, resting at each face for a second and inspecting it with a never subsiding curiosity. Mario could have sworn he had seen the man somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember where it had been. But he understood that this man was one of the unwanted guests here, because every time Robert looked at him, his eyes sparkled with anger and hatred.

Yet, it wasn’t this man who troubled Mario the most. It was a much younger lord sitting on his left. He didn’t speak at all during the dinner and he carefully hid his cup whenever the servants came around to fill it. His face was cold as ice and he didn’t move a single muscle. His clothes were elegant and frightening at the same time. He wore a black cloak with silver linings in all shapes. Mario had no idea what the lord’s name was, but he was the man with the flag that had sent chills down Mario’s spine when he spotted it this morning.

He would have liked to shout at Robert and tell him whom he should get to save the king and prince, but he wasn’t sure if the knight would have believed him. Probably not. So instead, Mario remained in the background and never lost sight of the young lord staring at his now empty plate. Plus, he also had to avoid any unnecessary attention. He was a simple servant and he shouldn’t have been on this dinner at all, at least not in the idle position he had taken. He still felt that having him around was the biggest insult to the Bachiano royal house and somehow he didn’t think that Marco would be blamed for it.

Klopp’s look reassured him about his suspicion. The king rarely looked at him, something that made Mario utterly grateful, but on those few occasions, Mario’s blood froze. There was no way someone could put more disappointment and contempt in a look. If there was, then Klopp gifted Marco with it, but the prince was far too drunk to realize it. He emptied his cup over and over again and when his jug was empty, he waved at a servant impatiently, as if he would die of dehydration if he didn’t keep flooding his throat with wine. There was nothing prince-like about him. He was a stranger to Mario and when he looked at Marcel, he could see the same feeling in the servant’s eyes. But Marcel didn’t object. He served his prince just like he had been doing for years, but he sent a few pleas for help towards Mario.

Mario would have liked to help him. Marcel’s begging had touched his heart. He wanted to fight for his Marco, but it was so hard to see him in this man in front of his eyes. He wanted to help Marco, but he didn’t have the faith that Marco was still in that body. He knew that the ones who were the hardest to love were oftentimes the ones needing love the most, but he didn’t live according to that wisdom. Not when he looked at the prince and saw that twinkle in his eyes that told everyone rather blatantly that their owner wasn’t the least interested in the matters of the world. Dortehan could be overrun by an unexpected enemy as far as Marco was concerned.

 

* * *

 

King Jürgen had never been a bigger fool in his life. The late Lord Höwedes had tried to warn him. He had told him many times that he should have chosen Mats over Marco, because getting an apt bastard accepted was still an easier task than making a good ruler out of Marco. But it was so damn hard to give in to what the brain told him. He had forgiven Ulla for her infidelity and he had brought Mats up as his own son, but his blood still dictated him to prefer Marco over anyone else.

He had a real hope that the prince would grow up one day, and the last days had filled him with new hope. He saw a future king whenever he looked at Marco. He saw someone who understood his responsibilities and was ready to fulfill them. The drunk wreck sitting next to him right now was nothing like that man. Jürgen would have liked to grab that wine jug and pour its content on Marco’s head and then maybe smash the jug in the prince’s face. He was bringing shame not only to himself or his father. He was a shame to the entire kingdom and he could put an early end to this engagement.

Jürgen understood how weak this truce between the two nations was. It could end very quickly and Marco consciously or unconsciously made everything in that regard. The king had no doubts that his son was acting deliberately. It was too much like the old Marco. A coward. Not facing the hardships, not standing up and speaking up for himself. He simply brought shame to himself and expected everyone else to clear his name. If he had come back gracefully and he had shown that the conspiracy had really originated in Bachiano, Jürgen would have called off the engagement. He would have had every reason to do so. Hell, he would have even accepted Marco’s love for Mario! If only he knew that his dear home’s fate was in good hands with Marco…

But he couldn’t do that. After this dinner, it was clearer than ever before. He had to get rid of Marco and install Mats as the heir. But still, he had a strange tingling in his guts. It told him that he was somehow playing his kingdom into the hands of the Bachiano. If they would feed Marco with the right nonsense, he could well imagine that it would come to a war after his death. Brother killing brother for a throne. It couldn’t come to that. He had to find a solution, and he had to find it quickly.

They hadn’t learned anything from the assassin in their prisons. He didn’t say anything and on the first time when he had the chance and his guard wasn’t watching him closely, he made sure that he wouldn’t even say a thing. He showed a commitment that horrified Jürgen. The assassin was barely older than twenty, a young man with the better half of his life in front of him. And he decided to end it all only because someone had fanaticized him. It was a driving force the king couldn’t understand. How could hate ever become a bigger leading force than love, the purest and simplest form of human emotion?

The dinner ended rather quickly. The princess announced her retirement right after the meal, blaming her tiredness, and half of the Bachiano lords followed her. The others noticed the home lords outnumbering them early and they slowly disappeared one after the other. It was the moment when Jürgen stood up from the table, too. The music died right away and every pair of eyes was glued to him.

“It seems like time is catching up to me.” He said with a grin. “I can’t enjoy this celebrations as much as I did when I was younger, but that’s no reason for you not to have a great time! Enjoy yourselves, eat and drink, there won’t be a lack of anything, I promise that!” He clapped his hands and the feast went on from where it had stopped.

On his way out, he stopped next to the First Knight for a moment. “Make sure that the prince gets tired very quickly and he visits me in my chambers before he goes to bed.”

His loyal servant nodded and walked over to the prince immediately. Marco entered the king’s chamber only a few minutes after Jürgen closed the door behind himself. His son could barely stand on his feet and he slumped into the first chair he stumbled across.

“Are you satisfied?” Jürgen hissed, staring out the window. “Your little plan worked out. You proved to the princess that you are a total prick. But if you think that’s enough to stop this engagement, you are more stupid than I have thought.”

“What’s that, _father_?” Marco hit back with a mocking grin. He wasn’t drunk enough to not mean his words. “Did your son disappoint you? Is the precious pretense you have forced on me falling apart?”

“Why are you doing this, Marco?” The king turned to the prince. He was a broken man, not a ruler anymore. He wanted to understand his son, because he was tired of this endless fight between them. “All my life, I gave you the best I could.”

“But you never asked me what I wanted!” Marco shouted accusingly. “You don’t have the slightest idea who I am or what I feel and think! You don’t know me! You know an ideal you hold of me, but that’s not true, father! I am not the prince you want me to be, and I will never be! You never thought about what’s the best for me! You had one thing on your mind all your life: what’s the best for the country! I was nothing but a chess piece on your board, a piece you could move any way you wanted! I’ve had it! I’m not going to take it any longer! I won’t marry Cathy and that’s it! If I have to fight for it, so be it!”

“You are drunk, Marco.” The king sighed. “Go to your room and have a good night’s sleep. We will talk about it tomorrow.”

“That’s all you have ever done!” The prince snorted. “Sending me away until I’d finally gave in. But it won’t work this time.”

“I said out!” Jürgen roared and Marco climbed out of the chair. He stumbled out of the chamber and slammed the door behind him.

The king took a deep breath. Marco was wrong. He knew his own son. And the man he had talked to was a monster, nothing more. A monster he had turned his son into. The realization weighed on his shoulders like an anchor that held him down. In one thing, Marco had been right. This needed to end, and Jürgen mumbled a silent prayer that it would end soon and that he would have the strength to end it.

 

* * *

 

Mario had thought that his ears were deceiving him when Marcel told him where he had to go. He was lying on the prince’s bed, his whole body trembling. He was afraid. He dreaded the moment when Marco would enter, furious from his talk with the king and only one man around to take his anger out on. Only god knew how far the prince would go.

Mario’s darkest fears were mirrored in Marco’s eyes when he finally stumbled into the room. His eyes lit up when he saw the brunet spread out and he licked his lips.

“I see that there’s one man I can still trust.” He groused.

“Marco, I don’t want that!” Mario whined. The prince was drunk and there really was no boundary to what he would be able to do to Mario.

“Silence!” He snapped. He walked over to the bed and lay down on it. “Get up and lose your clothes! I know you aren’t the Mario I know and want, but I will make sure that he feels how much I need him! He will than get rid of you and we will face the shit your friend and you have put us in!”

“But…” Mario stammered.

“Lose your clothes!” Marco yelled and pushed Mario off the bed.

The brunet rolled down and started to cry. He couldn’t move a single part of his body. He wanted to die. He couldn’t live with the shame that he had to face right now. He prayed to all the gods and Marco to save him somehow.

He didn’t know who heard him, but the next moment, the sweetest music reached his ears. The prince was snoring. Mario took a careful look and saw the blond lying on his stomach, already in a deep sleep.

He quickly sprung up and rushed to the door. He wanted to get out of here, run away from the castle somehow and never come back again. There was no way out for them and it was obvious. He turned around one more time, and when he saw Marco lying there, he remembered Marcel’s words.

He took a few faltering steps back to the bed against his better judgement. He crouched down next to the snoring blond and stroked his hair.

“Marco.” He said softly. The prince didn’t move, but Mario wasn’t talking to him. “Marco. If you are still in there, and I hope that you are, please, fight him. I need you. I can’t do this alone. I couldn’t bear losing you, so please, don’t leave me alone. We can win. Together, we will make it. But please, be there when you wake up. I won’t leave you. I will be right here next to you and I’ll be waiting. And if it will be the real prince waking up, I don’t mind. Because without you, there’s no point in going on.”


	36. The Battle

Marco didn’t know how lying in liquid lead felt like, but what he felt during the day must have been close to it. When the prince took the control over his body, Marco was pushed away and he was falling for minutes. It was the most horrible prison he could imagine. He was forced to watch everything that happened around the prince, and while he saw everything, he couldn’t do anything about it. It was like watching your life from the outside, except that a dickhead was playing you.

Marco had no idea what had gotten into the prince. He knew that their personalities were different, but this behavior wasn’t common for the prince, either, he felt it. He also got the prince’s senses and he couldn’t miss the guilt pooling in his heart. But the prince kept drinking and doing what he had been doing all day long. And Marco watched. He saw the most loyal servants grimace, he saw how Marcel shook his head in disbelief when the prince demanded another flask of wine and he saw Mario’s face…

The most beautiful face in the world was distorted by pain. The prince hurt Mario, who was supposed to be his big love, too, and Marco couldn’t do anything about it. He wanted to yell and tear down his chains, but he couldn’t move a single part of his body and his voice only echoed within the prince’s mind and it didn’t bother him the least. Marco didn’t have the strength to go on after a few attempts, but he somehow managed to keep trying, nonetheless. He had to do it for Mario. He had to protect him, because Mario was so lost without him in this world, and Marco hadn’t even realized it until now.

The brunet looked like a puppy left on his own and Marco wanted to embrace him and reassure him that everything would be fine. He couldn’t know for sure if it really would be like that, but he needed to tell those words for the sake of both of them. Finally, he could no longer think about them as two people. In his eyes, Mario and he were one. They had to fight together and win or fall together. They stood no chance alone.

So he kept fighting and kicking and shouting, but it was all like scratching a brick wall. Soon he found that the prince’s drunkenness affected him, as well, because he felt tired and his senses blurred. He ran out of strength completely when they arrived in the capital. He wanted to close his eyes and relax, gather new energy for another attack at night, when the prince would be low on his guards, but he couldn’t direct his own body. Once again, he was forced to watch how the other Marco ruined everything he had been working on all this time.

The prince wasn’t satisfied with what had become of him, either, that much was clear to Marco. He heard the prince’s words blaming himself for being too weak and trusting Marco. He wanted to speak up, but the prince thought otherwise and shut him up whenever he wanted to talk to him.

He was forced to remain a silent observer of how everyone around him turned against him, or the man they believed him to be. He saw it in their eyes. First Mario, than Marcel, Olli, the servants in the castle, Kehli, and finally, Kloppo. Marco had no idea what the prince wanted to achieve with his acting, but he suspected that he would get the exact opposite result. He dreaded the moment when he would get a chance to take control over his body again, because then he would have a mountain to climb convincing everyone that he wasn’t such a horrible person after all. He had felt so optimistic about his situation before the prince ruined everything. He almost felt like their home was within an arm’s reach, and now, it disappeared in a split second. There was no short way out of here, and he could be glad if he ever got home with Mario.

He curled up in a ball and started to accept his fate. He was exhausted from all the trying. But then, the prince entered his chamber and Marco saw Mario there. Baffled, unsure and frightened. That moment, Marco felt what the prince wanted to do with his Mario, and he knew that he couldn’t give up. He felt the inhuman lust rise in the prince’s soul as he wanted to free his own Mario from the brunet’s body, and Marco fought vehemently.

He was once again hitting dumb brick walls that wouldn’t even crumble under his efforts. He shouted, but it only echoed in the prince’s mind without understanding. He could feel the prince’s chains holding him, tighten and in the end, Marco collapsed from exhaustion. He wasn’t there for Mario. He couldn’t save him. He failed.

And then, he got help from the least probable place. The wine finally took the better of the prince and he fell into a deep sleep. Marco could finally relax, too. His prison got weaker, but still impossible to escape from. He was hopeless and he wanted to sleep. Maybe he would get the chance for another assault tomorrow. He sighed in relief as the world finally calmed down around him, and he welcomed the break from the prince’s thoughts. And then, he found hope again, and it came in the form of a wonderful melody of his friend’s voice.

Mario spoke to him. Not to the prince, but to his Marco. He believed in him, he trusted him, and Marco couldn’t let him down. He didn’t see the brunet, but he could make out his despair. He heard in his voice that he was in the verge of crying and he guessed the moment when the first teardrop rolled down on Mario’s beautiful and young face. Marco wanted to reach out and wipe it away, or still better – kiss it away.

But, he couldn’t.

There was a horrible person standing in his way. No, it wasn’t right. The prince wasn’t a horrible person. He wasn’t the heartless beast many believed him to be. He had his own conscience, he had bad feelings, and he only wanted to do what everyone else wanted to do: be happy. But, how could he succeed when no one wanted to accept him the way he was? How could he be a good man full of love for his country, when that country didn’t let him be together with the man he wanted to live with?

Marco felt anger rising in him, but he wasn’t angry at the prince anymore. He understood him. He didn’t approve of his methods and his behavior, but he saw where it came from. More importantly, he wanted to help him, and he wanted to help his Mario.

_Get up, you drunk, I want to talk to you!_ He yelled and prayed that the prince would finally listen to him.

He found himself in the prince’s dream. It wasn’t anything particular. They were in the palace’s throne room, the prince sitting in the magnificent seat, staring at the crown sitting on his lap. He jerked his head up when Marco’s words echoed in the room. There was loathing in his smirk.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“I want you to listen to me.” Marco held his head up in defiance. “And I want to you realize that you are ruining everything you ever wanted to have. You are pushing away yourself from the happy life you are aiming for. You can have everything you have ever wished for. You can have Mario and you can serve your country. You can live up to your father’s expectations. Don’t try to fool me, I know you want it, no matter how much you want to convince yourself that it isn’t so. You long to help your people and make them happy. You only don’t want to accept all the responsibility that comes with it. And you know what? It is understandable. I…”

“Shut up, will you?” The prince shouted and the sheer power he put into his words muted Marco. The venom sensible in his outburst filled the hall and wove there for a long moment. “I’m not being educated by you! Not you! Do you think you’re the only one who came to know the other? I have watched you. I have no idea who you are or why you have come here, but you aren’t the perfect man you believe yourself to be! I saw your shortcomings and I saw that you are as coward as I am!”

“Excuse me?” Marco gaped and blinked.

“Don’t play the dumb with me.” The prince hissed in a cold voice. “I know what you feel when you look at Mario. Tell me, if you really believe that you don’t have to make compromises for a happy life, why aren’t you together?”

Marco didn’t know what to say, being faced with the crude reality. He couldn’t even say a word, because the prince was right. He was a coward and he never dared to admit his feelings to himself. He wasn’t sure whom he was kidding, because he knew very well that he didn’t feel only friendship for Mario. And maybe it was his hope that someday they could be together after all that told him that Mario felt something similar for him.

“So that’s it? You won’t change anything about yourself because I’m not the perfect man, either?”

“I’ve already given up too much for others and to no avail.” The prince hit back. “I have had enough of it. I am their prince by right and I will be their king. I won’t let my father make Mats the heir. Can you imagine how much it hurt when Mats told me what my own father thinks of me? He would rather have a bastard sitting on the throne than his own son!”

“Then prove him that he is wrong!” Marco objected. “Show him that you would be a great leader after all! You won’t get anywhere with childish games and getting drunk! If you want them to see you as a good person, you must be that good person!”

“I can’t!” The prince shook his head like a broken person. “I saw how they looked at you. Everyone loved you. They were ready to follow you anywhere. I wish I could be like you, but I can’t. I’m not the good person I want myself to be.”

“It’s never late to do something about it.” Marco smiled at him weakly. “You are meant to help these people and they can help you, too. But they aren’t yours to torment or use. You have to lead them, not order them. Leadership isn’t only about bossing. You know what? There’s humbleness to it. You might be above others in your position, but you also have to be the one who listens to everyone else, who tries to understand them and who won’t let them get treated wrongly because of their mistakes.” Marco explained, and each word spoke to his own heart, too. As if he was describing what he needed to do in Dortmund. He saw everything clearly now, the lesson he had to learn. He felt immense ease spreading out in his body and he felt already at home, all hurdles gone from his way. But, he couldn’t get there, not yet. He had to help Mario, too. Either both of them got home, or neither.

“But, I– I almost hurt Mario.” The prince stammered and Marco saw the deep regret and guilt in his eyes. The man in front of him felt disgusted by his own self, he couldn’t believe who he had become and it was the biggest sign for Marco that the prince had understood him.

“He will forgive you.” Marco reassured him.

“How can you be so sure of that?” The prince looked up at him, tears welled up in his eyes, but his glance was full of hope.

“Because I know my Mario and if yours is any similar to him, his heart is filled with love, too. It will help you overcome this. I cannot blame you for what you wanted to do, although I feel as disgusted by that as you are. But, Mario will understand. Love will understand.”

“And what about the people?”

“When they see that you care about them and you are their good leader, they will accept you for the man you are.” Marco said and the prince finally ran out of doubts. “So, what do you say? Will we fight for our happier futures?”

 

* * *

 

As the first sunrays found their ways through the chamber’s window, Mario looked at the blond sleeping next to him. His stomach was a tight knot. He didn’t know who would wake up by him, and he could only hope that it would be the Marco he knew. But it wasn’t the only thing that filled him with anticipation. He couldn’t sleep the whole night, and he had been thinking. He even had a strange conversation with the real Mario. The stable boy tried to defend the prince for his actions, but he also told Mario a few details that made the brunet think. And the more he thought, the more sense this whole conspiracy made. He was pretty sure now who stood behind it and what they wanted, but he had to have Marco on his side.

“Good morning, Sunny!” The weak voice that spoke up even before Marco could open his eyes, sent a huge rock falling from Mario’s heart.

“Marco!” The brunet cried out in joy with the hugest beam spreading out on his face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday, but the prince–”

“Are you insane? I’m not angry with you!” Mario shouted and punched his friend’s shoulder playfully. “I’m just so glad that you are here again!”

“I know. I am, too.” Marco said, his hazel eyes looking deep into Mario’s, and his look telling Mario something he didn’t quite understand.

“Marco, I think I know who’s behind the conspiracy! We must stop the engagement, and tell the king what to do! I think that’s what we must do to get home.” He shouted, spurred on by the good news of his friend’s return. He wanted to jump out of the bed right away and run to the king’s quarters, not minding if he would be heard out or not.

“That’s great, but before that…” Marco drawled and looked at Mario with that special look again. “I have to do something. Something I should have done a long time ago.” He said and grabbed Mario as he sat up.

The brunet had no idea what was going on, but suddenly, a thousand butterflies started to fly in his stomach as Marco looked at him face to face, his beautiful features getting closer and closer. Their faces were almost touching when Mario finally understood what the blond was up to, and his heart sank with relief and _love_.

When their lips finally touched, the soft flesh making real what both of them had been craving for for so long, their worlds erupted and they felt a happiness and fulfillment they had never experienced before. All this time, they had been looking for the way home, but more importantly, they had found the way to each other.


	37. Exciting News

Benni woke up to a harsh knock on the door followed by Julian’s excited voice. “My Lady, I’m afraid that Lord Höwedes hasn’t woken up yet. I can go inside and–”

“Relax, Draxler.” Lady Frieda’s voice came through the door and Benni’s blood froze. He sat up in his bed and started to shake Mats who was still snoring peacefully next to him, not having the slightest idea about what danger was looming over them. “I think I can wake him up myself. It’s not the first time I’m going to do it.”

“Mats, wake up!” Benni got more desperate. He didn’t know how he could hide his love, and facing his mother like that wasn’t a better prospect, either.

“What?” The dark-haired growled as he started to rub his eye at ease.

“Mama’s here!” Benni said and as he said it, Mats’s eyes snapped open and he sat up in the bed, too. But before he could get up, the door to Benni’s chamber was opened and Lady Frieda walked in.

“Good morning, Benedikt!” She smiled at her son and then turned towards Mats. The younger one started to shake by Benni’s side. “Lord Advisor, how nice of you to be here. At least I don’t have to walk to your chamber, too. I have news that might interest you.” She spoke lightheartedly as if she was having a pleasant chat. She had all right to be that much at ease. She had all the cards and the upper hand in this conversation. The two men only sat next to each other, trying to cover as much of their naked trunks as they could.

“Um, couldn’t we move this to another place and a few minutes later?” Benni suggested.

“Oh, no. Why would we? We are all here, and if you had woken up earlier, I gather I would have found you in a more comfortable position. And the Lord Advisor’s early waking up habit didn’t serve him well today, either.” She chuckled. “So, do you want to hear the news or not?”

Benni rolled his eyes. If only his mother didn’t enjoy this so much. “Alright, what’s going on?” He gave in with a sigh.

“It looks like the prince has changed his mind about his way back to the capital. He didn’t stop by us and took his princess straight to Bay Town. We will be going there, too.” She said.

“May I have a say in that, too?” Benni snapped. He was the lord of the castle, and not even his mother could order him around like that.

“Of course, _My Lord_ , but I suppose you don’t want to miss a completely drunk prince bringing shame to his family.” She revealed her trump.

“Marco did what?” Mats joined in the conversation, looking at Lady Frieda bewildered.

“It’s just rumors of course, but to be honest, rumors about the prince have never disappointed.” She chuckled again. “So I advise you get up soon and we leave so we won’t miss much more of it. I haven’t been entertained in a long time and I really want to see with my own eyes what that spoiled brat is up to.”

“You are talking about the prince, Mother!” Benni raised his voice, but Lady Frieda didn’t seem to be affected by it.

“Yes, of course I am. He is still a spoiled brat, though.” She pulled a face. “So are you going to give out the order to leave for Bay Town or do I have to wait until you are finished with your program with the Lord Advisor?”

“Lord Höwedes, maybe we could do something about it. Maybe we could get some sense into the prince again.” Mats spoke up, horrified from hearing what his brother was doing only miles away from him.

“Yes, you do that!” Lady Frieda burst out laughing. “I will simply enjoy seeing the prince drunk, Lord Advisor. But please take my compliments for finding your professional role even when you are lying next to my son.”

“Mother!” Benni snapped rather harshly, but to no avail. Lady Frieda walked over to one of the armchairs and slumped down on it. She set her dress just right and then rested her hands in her lap, looking expectantly at the castle’s lord.

“Benedikt, I am doing my very best not to cause any uproar here. I would appreciate it if you could the same. I don’t want to drag the poor Lord Advisor into our inner family problems, or should we already consider him family?”

“What do you want?” Hissed Benni, finally understanding that he had no other choice than to submit to his mother’s will.

“I want simply what you want, too: the best for our family. Your father worked really hard for making the Höwedes name what it is now. You are the son of the proudest lord who has ever lived. There isn’t a nobleman in this country who didn’t respect Walter, and who doesn’t feel relieved right now. Do you think that they will sit in their comfortable seats doing nothing? Oh, no. They will take advantage of weakness once they see it. So I want you to step up and be the lord you ought to be! The fates of the royal family and ours are connected, and I’m not talking about the little business you are doing here. If the name of the royal family crumbles, we fall with them. So you will ride to Bay Town and do your very best to save Jürgen’s stupid plan of this engagement.”

“Okay.” Benni nodded. His mother could actually say something sensible when she cut out all the games she was playing all the time.

“Now.” She emphasized and drummed with her fingers. Benni really hoped that she would wait outside or even better, in her own quarters. Putting on clothes wasn’t a thing that had come to their minds after they were done with their night program with Mats.

He opened his mouth, but he decided not to argue. He didn’t want to make it harder than it already was, and after all, his mother had seen him naked countless times and not only when he had still been a baby. He lifted the cover and climbed out of the bed. He reached for his gown and put it on as quickly as possible. Lady Frieda at least was considerate of him and turned her head away until he was done. Benni started off towards the door and then he realized something.

His mother didn’t make the slightest move and Benni didn’t want to leave Mats alone with her unless he knew that she wouldn’t make any more comments which was something practically impossible. He halted and shot an apologetic glance at his love before his eyes turned serious and warning as he scanned over the room and finally stopped at his mother. Then, he left.

The air got colder by at least ten degrees. Facing Lady Frieda on his own was a bad enough thing for Mats, but doing it in the position they were in was much worse than his most horrible nightmare. He tried to avoid looking at the older woman, but at the same time, he knew very well that he couldn’t avoid a short note from her. The seconds passed extremely slowly and in the end, he decided that he would face his fate bravely.

“You must be very pleased with how it all worked out for you.” He groused.

“I won’t lie to you, I am flattered.” She agreed. “I hope Benni will get the right consequences. But you are mistaken if you think I want to hurt my son. I want to save him from being hurt, that’s all.”

“So you think I will hurt him?”

“No. But he might get hurt because of you.” She stood up and walked over to the bed. She put her hands on the footboard as she leant forward. “Let us be completely clear, _Lord Advisor_.” She hissed, her voice radiating venom and menace. “I have no problems with my son’s odd taste in his partners. He can sleep with whomever he likes as long as he fulfils his duty as the head of the family and doesn’t put us in danger. With you, he does that. So if you sleep with him again, I will see to it that there won’t be a next time because you won’t have to offer him any source of satisfaction. Is it crystal clear?”

“Benni is a grown up man, Lady Frieda.” Mats copied her look and tone. “He can make his decisions for himself.”

“Being of age doesn’t make him mature.” She hit back. “If he can’t see the danger he puts our family in, I will make sure that he does. If you really love him, you will do the same. You will come with us to Bay Town and talk to the Bachiano lot.”

“Why do you think that they will listen to me?” Mats asked.

“You will find at least one pair of interested ears, I can assure you about that.” She said. “You will save the prince’s ass, because it is your job. And after that, you won’t leave Bay Town again. You will never set your foot in our halls.”

She finished and spun around. She didn’t give Mats a chance to object or the time to make him realize that she wasn’t in a position to order him like that.

 

* * *

 

His lips tingled where Marco had kissed him. He could feel his blood pulsing in the soft flesh and every cell of his body yearned for more. Marco’s kiss had reignited a fire in him that he had forgotten a long time ago, and now it was burning with a power that wanted to conquer the whole world and even that wouldn’t sate it. But above all, he wanted Marco. He wanted more of the blond now that he had just gotten a small taste of what his friend was like.

He looked at Marco’s lopsided smile and his heart missed a beat. The warmth he felt all over his body threatened to melt him, but he didn’t care about it as long as it would happen in Marco’s arms. For some time he couldn’t even think about getting back to his own world, because he had found his real home, and it had been in front of him all this time.

He only stared as Marco’s look slowly became questioning. “Only speak when you don’t want to reject me.” He said with a cracking voice.

“I would never do that.” Mario stated the way he felt about it. It only made Marco’s smile wider.

“You are beautiful.” The blond said it plainly and stole a quick peck from Mario.

“Certainly not as beautiful as you are.” Mario replied and reached for Marco’s hand. He drew circles on the back of the blond’s hand with his thumb. “Do you think that this was the lesson we had to learn?”

“Well, it certainly changes a lot of things. But we still aren’t in our world. So maybe we still have something to do.” Marco mused. “The prince is ready to give me a chance, but I feel like he will have to make the last step and make his own happiness.”

“But we can help them!” Mario’s eyes lit up. “The real Mario spoke to me, too, and I’m starting to make sense of this conspiracy. There still are a few questions, but I guess they will be answered on the go! We must talk to the king!” He said that with one breath, like he always spoke when he was excited.

“Mario, wait!” Marco called after him as the brunet sprung up and was on his way to the door. When he heard his friend’s voice though, he turned around in the doorway. “Will we continue this once we get home?”

Mario let out his breath and walked back to his Marco. He cupped his face in his hands and looked him straight in the eyes. “Is that still a question for you? What does your heart tell you?” He answered Marco’s question without uttering the answer, but the blond understood. A second later, he nodded, relieved. “Now let’s go! I want to get to the part when we continue things in our world!” Mario laughed and pulled Marco up from the bed.

As they stepped out of the prince’s bedroom, Marcel jumped up from a recliner and looked at Mario before his eyes traveled over to the blond. The shorter one gave him a reassuring smile and nodded faintly.

“My Prince! I’ll go and get your dress ready!” Marcel offered, already on the go.

“No, wait Marcel!” Marco stopped him. “First of all, I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I can promise you that it won’t happen again.”

“You are the prince, you don’t have to apologize.” Marcel looked at him baffled.

“Oh yes, I do. And not only to you.” Marco snickered. “I think I’ll see the king right away.”

“He has sent for you, My Prince!” Marcel announced. “He is waiting for you in his study with the First Knight!”

“Perfect!” Marco clapped his hands without any sense of irony and started off towards his quarters’ door. He couldn’t miss the short ‘thank you’ Marcel mouthed as Mario passed him.

On the surface, everything seemed to be the same as they made their way towards the king’s rooms, but Marco has learned to look past it in this world. The guards and servants all stopped to greet him, but there was no sign of the appreciation and love they had had just a day before, until the prince’s behavior ruined the image Marco had painted of himself or the prince. There was a certain kind of distance to be felt between him and the people the prince would have to lead one day.

The other thing that had changed was the way everyone was looking at Mario. They despised him and Marco was pretty sure that they would stop them to scold him if he wasn’t the prince. He was about to propose to his princess, it was highest time to stop seeing his lover. Of course they had no idea that Marco had just _started_ seeing Mario, and that the brunet wasn’t only his lover, at all. He had no intention of ending this relationship before it even started. Not when it felt so right.

As they arrived at the huge wooden door leading to the king’s quarters, Toni greeted them but held out his halberd nonetheless.

“The king wishes to see me.” Marco held his head high, trying to look proud and unwavering.

The guard nodded and disappeared behind the door to check if the prince’s claim was right. They were left alone in the corridor and Marco reached for Mario’s hand. He squeezed it and he looked at the wonderful human being standing next to him. They both were grinning like idiots, or rather like two young men totally in love.

“Together?” He asked Mario.

“Together.” The brunet nodded, as Toni stepped out and left the door open for them, a signal that they were supposed to enter.


	38. About Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you for your support and that you are still reading the story. Now, the big finish starts, although there are still a few chapters until the end, but the plot will be faster and slowly, your questions will be answered, starting with the first one right in this chapter... :-) I hope you will like the answer, please let me know, what you think of it.

The king and the First Knight were obviously in the middle of a stormy discussion that they stopped because of Marco’s and Mario’s arrival. They were sitting at a desk with the kingdom’s map on it. The study was more like a small library with bookshelves reaching towards the high ceiling and sunshine streaming in through the windows, illuminating the dust dancing in the air. It was a peaceful room and Marco thought that a man would be completely alone with his thoughts inside these walls; there was no wonder that the king had chosen it for his debate with Robert.

Klopp’s first look at Marco dispelled any hopes that the king had forgotten about the happenings of the day before. His eyes didn’t have a single hint of niceness in them and there was that slight twinkle that told Marco that he was up for a long sermon. He thanked God that Klopp’s counterpart wasn’t that different from the coach he knew, because at least he could prepare himself for a stern telling off, even if it wasn’t a pleasant thing.

Then the king’s eyes traveled on and stopped on Mario. His face was hard to read, but Marco gathered he wasn’t glad to see the brunet there. It didn’t matter though. Marco was willing to stand up for Mario. Now he had more reasons to do so than anytime earlier. Plus, he had a trump in his hands and he decided to play it immediately. Maybe that was the only way to prevent the king from carrying out his plan, whatever it might have been.

“Mario might know who is behind the conspiracy.” He stated boldly. Mario winced by his side, but Marco sent him a silent reassurance.

“And I guess he shared it with you and the shock was so big that you had to escape into drinking?” Klopp mocked him.

“I am sorry about that.” Marco shot his eyes down.

“Yes, I can imagine.” The king sighed and a heavy silence fell on the room. “So who do you think wants to kill us, Götze?” He turned right to Mario who almost choked as he couldn’t swallow properly.

“I am not sure about that, Your Grace! It is just a hunch, and not all the questions are answered yet.” Mario stammered.

“Cut that nonsense!” Klopp roared. “I want to know what you suspect.”

“Mario, you can tell him.” Marco spoke up and looked as supporting at his friend as he could.

He needed Mario to wake up and realize that he would be heard. He knew very well what they had to learn in this world, and coming closer to each other was just one thing. He had to understand the full meaning of leadership, and Mario had to find the courage to open up and let his full potential to the surface. He couldn’t take others’ shit forever, and this was the best time to change it. His words seemed to have worked because Mario took a deep breath and then started to speak.

“With all respect, Your Grace, I don’t think that you should know it.” Mario stated, going against everything that had been the order in this world for God knew how long.

“Pardon me?” The king asked, although he heard very well what Mario had said. It was more an opportunity for the brunet to rephrase his sentence.

“Hear him out.” Marco said and earned himself a reprimanding look from the king.

“Your Grace, I cannot be sure about it, and I don’t think you should risk making the wrong impression if it turns out that I was mistaken after all.” Mario explained. “I will try to dispel all my doubts and when I am one hundred percent sure about the perpetrators, I will inform you and you can make the necessary steps with the First Knight.”

“This is ridiculous!” Robert burst out laughing. “So what exactly do you want us to do? Sit back while you conduct your own little investigation?”

“Yes.” Mario put an end to Robert’s sarcasm. “But, I would like to have your support. I want you to grant me access to every bit of information. That means that I should be allowed to get a few guards or other servants who I think could help me.”

“Oh, that’s fabulous!” Robert rolled his eyes. “And why wouldn’t we do it, right? After all, you were suspicious of the conspiracy yourself, what could possibly go wrong?”

“It was only you who has ever suspected me!” Mario hit back, silencing Robert who could only gape at him for a moment and then his expression of bewilderment turned into fuming.

“That’s enough!” Klopp raised his hand. “Robert, please leave us alone!”

The First Knight shot his monarch a frustrated look, as if he wanted to make sure that this was what the king really wanted, but then he nodded obediently and rounded the table. “Götze, come with me!” He told Mario who didn’t get that Klopp’s order applied to him, as well.

“What is this about?” The king sighed when the door was closed again.

“I don’t know.” Marco shrugged. “Mario didn’t tell me, either. But what he says makes sense. We would be risking too much by jumping into conclusions, and he can suspect whomever he likes without ruining his position. I trust him completely, and you should do the same.”

“I don’t have trouble trusting him.” Klopp said, but it was clear to Marco that his thought wasn’t finished yet. “It’s you I have issues with. After yesterday, I don’t know if I can trust you, Marco. You finally looked like a prince caring about his country’s wellbeing, and yesterday you ruined that picture completely.”

“It wasn’t me.” The words slid out of Marco’s mouth before he could think. Klopp raised his eyebrows as he measured him. “I mean, it didn’t feel like me at all. Something has gotten into me and I have no idea why it happened.”

“Should I be reassured with that?” The king asked with an unreadable expression.

“No, of course not.” Marco shook his head. God, this was so hard. He was crushing under the weight Kloppo was putting on his shoulders. Maybe it was a test and he could make up for everything if he passed it, but still, the other one could have made his job just a tad bit easier. “I wouldn’t forgive me if I were you, either. But, grave hours call for odd decisions, and Mario’s plan is our best shot right now.”

“You really care more about me letting him what he wants to do more than you care about what I think of you?” Klopp asked not as a ruler but as a father.

“As long as it is in the interest of the realm…” Marco drawled.

“You are impossible to predict!” The king laughed. “One day, you are the spoiled prince everyone considered you to be, and now, you stand in front of me like a future true statesman. You are growing up, Marco, and you are caught between your adulthood and childhood. And I owe you an apology.” He took a deep breath, giving Marco time to stop him. He was about to swallow his pride, and Marco knew that it wasn’t easy for him. But, he needed to do it and the blond had the suspicion that Klopp would say something that was important for the real prince, and he wanted to let his counterpart hear it.

“I mistreated you all your life. I put all my hopes in you and forced you into a life that you didn’t choose for yourself. Not that you ever had a choice as a prince. We have many privileges, but living the life we envision for ourselves isn’t one of them. Still, I should have let you live your life as long as you could. I know you very well. I should have trusted you more. I know that you would have chosen to become a responsible ruler anyhow. I apologize for that.”

Marco had no idea what to say to that. He was completely overcome by Klopp’s confession, even if it wasn’t particularly directed at him. He felt the prince in him go mute, too. A strange mix of emotions washed over him. There was relief, forgiveness and love in him. The real prince, that previously untamable spirit had calmed down now and found his place in the world. It was a magical moment and time stood still for a long moment. When Marco finally opened his mouth, it wasn’t him speaking. The prince asked him to let him speak to his father for a moment and Marco couldn’t say no to him.

“We all make mistakes. I know it better than anyone.” He chuckled and the king smiled, too. “But every day is a new dawn, so why don’t we start over? There’s still time.”

“Good.” The king nodded. “You know, there is nothing forcing you to propose to the princess. Officially she is on a visit to get to know you and maybe agree on other terms of the engagement and the wedding.” Marco’s jaw dropped. “Just make sure you don’t hurt her. I wouldn’t like you to burn all your boats. But if it turns out that the conspiracy stemmed from Bachiano, we will call off this wedding and we will start to reconsider our relationships with them.”

“I see.” The prince said.

“Now go, and tell your Mario that he has my full support. I hope he doesn’t blow his chance. Robert would be so satisfied to see him fall short of the expectations.”

 

* * *

 

The news of the Höwedeses coming to Bay Town reached Mario sooner than Marco left the study. His heart missed a beat. He couldn’t believe his luck. It had been the real Mario who convinced him that he needed to talk to Lady Frieda, but the more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. He knew that she was the only one who could play her cards right and put an end to the conspiracy, if she wanted, that was. And if someone else would come with them, that would make Mario’s triumph all the sweeter.

“You aren’t going to tell me whom you suspect?” The First Knight asked of him. He was obviously offended that the king had sent him away. He was the one responsible for the royal family’s safety and he didn’t like giving up leadership. Mario answered him with shaking his head. He didn’t care if it was impolite or not. He didn’t have the time to play games with Robert and try to please him. He needed to resolve all his questions and find the one who pulled the strings from the background. His identity was still unclear.

“What if I tell you a few names? You can nod when I am right.” Robert suggested. Mario rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. Why couldn’t the First Knight trust him? Robert wasn’t like this in real life at all, although truth to be told, he really considered his own glory and success the most important thing in his life, even if it sometimes meant going against the interest of the team.

“Not that I don’t know who you are thinking of.” Robert mused out loud. “It’s Lord Hummels. Everyone knows it. When the prince and I visited Bachiano not so long ago, he didn’t take his eyes off Prince Marco. Quite amateurish, if I might say.” He would have gone on, but that moment, Marco opened the door. The Prince Marco, and Mario panicked for a second, but then he saw his Marco return. He wondered if Robert could spot the difference, too, but the knight probably was still too busy convincing Mario that he was in full charge of the happenings.

“The king gives you all the authority you need, Mario.” Marco announced and a heavy weight fell off the brunet’s shoulders.

“So what should we do now?” Robert asked, turning to Mario. He accepted his defeat in record time and was ready to make the most out of his new situation. If he couldn’t be the leader, he would readily become the full supporter in no time.

“First of all, I want to talk to the prince alone. Maybe he can help me out with his impressions on the Bachiano lords.” Mario said, sure of himself and started off towards the door. Marco was quick to follow him and when they left the king’s quarters, he couldn’t hold back his questions anymore.

“So could you please tell me what’s going on? I’m more than happy that you have a suspicion, but you don’t have to protect me. I’d rather stand by your side and help you if I can.” Marco said.

“It might come to it.” Mario drawled, but it was clear that he was somewhere completely else in his thoughts. “Do you honestly trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Marco smiled and gently stroked Mario’s cheeks with the back of his fingers.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Mario smiled back at him. “You know, I might need to borrow Marcel for the day.”

“That’s no problem. I’ll just have to have him around while I change my clothes. I still haven’t figured out these strange clothes they are wearing. They are comfortable and practical and all, but there’s no way I can put them on alone.”

“That’s true!” Mario laughed, but his voice got serious in a split second. “Marco, if you had to guess who the mastermind behind this conspiracy is, whom would you choose? He is a Bachiano lord, I can tell you that.”

“Well, in that case…” Marco hesitated for a moment. “Lord Hummels. He was a bit fishy when I saw him in the prince’s memories.”

“Robert suspects him, too.” Mario nodded.

“It makes sense.”

“No, it doesn’t, can’t you see it?” Mario snapped and Marco was taken aback for a moment which made Mario change his tone. “Can’t you see it? I mean, we could use our knowledge from our world. After all, Mats is a bastard in this world and no one seems to know who his real father is…”

“Wait! You are implying that Lord Hummels is his father?” Marco asked completely baffled.

“Exactly. That makes sense. He is a Hummels in our world, why couldn’t he be here, too? And, there is some resemblance between his real father and Lord Hummels, you have to admit.”

“Yes, that’s true, I guess. I can’t say I can really recall his father’s face.” Marco admitted. “But then why would he have sent an assassin to kill Mats? I mean, he must know that Mats is his son.”

“He didn’t, and that’s the point.” Mario explained. I saw how he looked at you yesterday and he was searching for Mats the whole time. He is worried about Mats’s well-being. He must have his own suspect, and yesterday, during dinner, he looked at him from time to time.”

“God, I wish I could remember anything about that dinner!” Marco slammed his head against his palm as they finally reached his chambers.

“Don’t worry, I have everything under control.” Mario reassured him.

Marcel sprung up and rushed over to the prince when they entered the room. “My Prince, Lord Höwedes is about to arrive any minute! We must get you presentable in that time!”

“Thank you, Marcel.” Marco smiled at him. “I appreciate it. But after that, I want you to help Mario.”

The other servant shot the brunet a curious glance. “I will tell you everything later.” Mario said. “I must leave now. I need to talk to Lady Frieda, and my best chance is when I meet her right when she arrives.”

“Do that.” Marco said. “And don’t forget, Mario: the king and I are behind you. I have all my faith in you. You can do it!” He said it as tenderly as he could.

“Thank you.” Mario acknowledged it with a wide grin. Then, he spun around and hurried out, ready to face his second tough talk that morning.


	39. A Widow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you for your ongoing support for this story, I hope that you will like the rest of it, as well. :-)

Mario stood on tiptoes to get a glimpse of the arriving march from the Höwedes castle. He spotted Lord Höwedes right away, leading the procession with Sir Huntelaar by his side. Then, there was Mats, riding behind the two strong men and followed by a few personal servants. Mario kept scanning them, and he let out a sigh of relief when he spotted the one he was looking for. Then, his eyes wandered over to the coach painted in the Höwedes blue and silver and mumbled a silent prayer that Lady Höwedes was traveling in it.

He didn’t have much time to wonder, though. He needed to act quickly, because he wanted to put an end to this mystery as soon as he could. Kehl was still welcoming the riders when Mario snuck his way around the guards gathered in the courtyard and hurried over to the servants’ door. It opened to the stairwell that was used by every servant in the castle to go around unnoticed. Mario knew that the servants of the Höwedes castle would carry their lord’s and lady’s luggage this way, and he wasn’t mistaken; just a minute later, the first servants walked past him.

He carefully inspected all of them, and when he saw Julian approaching, he started off his way. Before he could reach him though, he bumped into one of the other servants carrying a smaller chest. The other boy hissed and shot Mario a malicious look, but the brunet showed him his widest and most apologetic smiled and continued on his way towards Jule. He was the prince’s servant, he knew what he could do, and anyways, he had the king’s support behind his back: he didn’t need any more reassurance that he could do anything he wished in the name of his quest.

“Julian! Could I please talk to you?” He stepped over to the arriving lord’s personal servant. Julian’s whole posture radiated importance as he overlooked his fellows carrying the noblemen’s things to their allotted places in record time. By the time their owners would enter their chambers, these things had to be there.

“Not now, Götze! Can’t you see that I don’t have the time?” Julian snapped at him without caring to give him the slightest look.

“I think you should find some time for this.” Mario noted mysteriously. He knew that it would work. Julian’s head jerked up immediately and his eyes shouted a question that Mario wasn’t going to answer right away. He simply started off towards the servants’ door and waved at the other boy to follow him. He was in the doorway when he heard Julian giving over the charge to one of his friends.

“So what is it about?” Julian caught up to him. They retired into a distant and dark corner.

“I want to ask you a question.” Mario whispered. The sounds of unpacking almost drowned out his voice, but he didn’t want to risk anything. No one could hear what they were talking about. “Could you tell me how the late Lord Höwedes died?”

“Why do you care?” Julian snapped.

“Just answer me.” Mario insisted. He didn’t like the way Julian behaved and thought himself more important than everyone else just because his lord suddenly acquired a higher position in the kingdom.

“He fell ill and the doctors couldn’t do much about it.” Julian shrugged.

“But before that, did he show any signs that his health was failing?” Mario inquired.

“I don’t know. I didn’t spend much time by his side.” Julian said. “But he wasn’t young anymore. His death didn’t come as a surprise. Now, is this why you pulled me away from my duties?”

“Yes, thank you.” Mario had to try really hard to remain calm and polite. But, he needed Julian’s support before he would ask him to do another thing. “And please, look out for your servants!” He called after Julian who was already on his way out and Mario could only hope that at least he heard his plea. The prospect of Julian actually taking his word was nothing more than an illusion.

 

* * *

 

Mario took a deep breath before he knocked on the door in front of him. He had been standing there for a minute or so already, thinking very hard to come up with another solution for his problem, but there was none. He had to do it. He had to go inside and have the hardest talk of his life, or at least his being here. In a way, even his talk with the king where he had been threatened to lose his life was easier than this; back then, at least he didn’t know what to expect. But this time, he was well-aware of the hardships he would have to face. Even being heard out was a challenge and he would have grasped any chance to avoid this talk. But, if he wasted more time standing in front of Lady Frieda’s chamber’s door, he would lose his one chance to talk to her. The guards hadn’t arrived yet, being held up by Robert as Mario had asked him.

He didn’t knock on the door. He knew it was pointless. If Lady Frieda didn’t want to talk to him, she didn’t need a door to stand between them. She could easily have him thrown out of his chambers and that was it. On the other hand, maybe she would appreciate Mario’s boldness. From their short acquaintance, she seemed to be someone who valued some things and commitment and courage were among those.

“The last time I was here, the servants of the royal palace knew their place.” Lady Frieda noted, not even turning back to look at Mario. She was sitting in front of a mirror and her personal servant was combing her hair.

“I beg your pardon, My Lady, but I need to talk to you.” Mario stammered. He had suddenly lost all his courage in the old woman’s presence. There was something about her personality that astonished and frightened him at the same time.

“And why would I talk to you?” An eyebrow ran up her forehead.

This was good. She was interested, Mario noticed satisfied. He bit down on his lower lip and looked at the young girl in the room. He didn’t want to discuss with the lady with anyone else present, even if it was just a simple servant. Mario had spent enough time among servants to know what exactly they could cause.

“Talk freely, boy. Contrary to you, my servants have manners. She won’t say anything. Besides, she is deaf as a post. Her only virtue, I must admit.” She said with a strange smile playing on her lips. “So I will ask you one more time and if you have some wits about you, you will give me an answer that pleases me: Why would I talk to you?”

Mario took a final glimpse at the young girl and took another deep breath to calm himself down and stop his voice from shaking. “Because I know that your husband didn’t die of old age. He was poisoned, My Lady.”

Lady Frieda was reaching into a bowl with fresh grapes when Mario spoke up and her hand stopped mid-movement. It was exactly the reaction Mario sought. She measured Mario in the mirror and then shooed away her servant. The girl curtsied politely and hurried out of the room. Only then did Lady Frieda turn around. She leaned back in her chair but didn’t offer a seat for the brunet.

“What makes you think so?” She asked.

“He was a strong man. Don’t you find it strange that one day he is in total health, and the next day, he exhales his last breath?”

“I find it strange, but it still doesn’t explain your conclusion.” She spoke up, confusing Mario.

She stood up and reached for a jug with wine. She filled two cups with the sweet drink and offered one of them to Mario.

“Why don’t we sit down?” She pointed at the two comfortable recliners in the middle of the room. Mario nodded and accepted the cup. When he sat down, he took a quick sip of it.

“We are going to talk about poisons and murders and you trust me so much?” Lady Frieda asked bemused.

“I have to trust you if I expect you to trust me.” Mario met her eyes.

“You are a quick learner.” She chuckled. “But you still haven’t answered my question. How do you know that my husband was poisoned?”

“You aren’t surprised by that?” Mario asked back instead of answering. He had misread her reaction and the news made him think. If Lady Frieda knew that Lord Höwedes didn’t die of natural causes, maybe she…

“I didn’t kill him, you don’t have to worry about that.” She said. “I loved my husband. I have never cheated on him, and trust me, that is saying something among us, noblemen and women. And I knew him. I knew that an illness couldn’t end his life just like that. I had our doctor look for signs of poison in his body after he died and he told me that my suspicion was grounded. And if you don’t have anything else to add, we might as well end our conversation right now.” She hinted and Mario swallowed back a silent curse. He had come here with the intention to play his cards right and have her act as he wanted, but Lady Frieda was too much on him. She knew that Mario hadn’t told her everything, and now she turned the table. Mario was powerless and he decided that he might as well submit to the lady’s will. It was his only chance.

“I know who poisoned him.” He said.

“Of course you know.” The lady nodded. “And you aren’t going to share it with me.” She added and took a pause. “Not for nothing.”

“I only want you to talk to the king, My Lady!” Mario hastened to say.

“You _want_ me to?” Both of her eyebrows gave away her displeasure over Mario’s choice of words.

“I hope that you will talk to His Majesty, My Lady.” Mario corrected himself.

“And what should I tell him?”

“Just convince him not to trust the Bachiano lords and don’t let him stop me during lunch, no matter what. I will give you the assassin of your husband then.” Mario shook. The lady’s figure was like a dark shadow in front of him and he was afraid.

“Why?” She said with so much coldness in her voice that it could freeze the ocean.

“I know you love your son.” Mario completely broke under the pressure she was putting him under. “And you want to protect him.”

“Is he in danger? Are you aware of an exact danger threatening him?” She pushed Mario more.

“No, My Lady.” The brunet shook his head. “But the Bachiano lords want to put an end to the peace between our two countries, and I can’t know how far they can go. They killed one of the king’s big allies with your husband. If the king would die for some reason, and they can make sure that he does, the crown will go to Marco, but maybe the Lord Advisor would feel robbed. Don’t you think they might want to make sure that he doesn’t find any supporters for his cause? And on that list, Lord Benedikt would rank pretty high.”

Mario said all that in a rapid succession of words and now he waited for the lady’s reaction with his breath held back. He saw how her thoughts were fighting in her head, how she was desperate to reach a conclusion of a sort. He knew that his plan depended on the lady’s answer. If she wouldn’t cooperate, Mario would lose his only ally. He needed her help; she was the only one who could give him the edge to outsmart the Bachiano lords who seemed to be well-prepared of everyone in Bay Town. The deciding factor had to come outside of the city, and in that, Lady Frieda was the perfect candidate. She was easy to overlook and yet, she knew a lot and could reach her goal at all costs. Mario only had to make sure that her goal would be the same as his.

“Look at that.” She snickered. “In the end, it turns out that our precious prince was right in one thing at least.” Her features softened and it gave Mario some sort of hope. “I must say, boy, I have met and spoken to many men in my lifetime, and a man who meets my expectations is rare. But a man who exceeds them… so far, only Walter managed to do it. So spit it out, what should I do to help your little quest?”

Mario couldn’t believe his luck. He would have liked to spring up and shout in joy. He would have gone as far as hugging the lady, but with that he would have surely lost her hard-earned support.

“Thank you, My Lady! Words can’t express how grateful I am that you–”

“Yes, yes, spare me the details.” She yawned. “I don’t have the whole day for you. I want to get ready for lunch and it seems that I will have a talk with the king before that so if you could please hurry up…”

“Alright. To tell the truth, I have already spoken to the king, and he has reassured me that he supports me. He told me that I could do anything needed to reveal the conspiracy, but I don’t think he realized how far I might have to go with that anything. He might have to hurt a few lords and it might set back the relationships between the two countries, but it needs to be done.”

“You know Jürgen very well.” Lady Frieda noted. “Where do I come in?”

“Just make sure that he doesn’t forget his promise. I know that he will open up to you if you visit him. He will tell you about his talk with Marco and me earlier this morning. And once he does, I believe that you will know what to say to him. He has to remain calm during the lunch and let me handle everything my way.”

“I see.” The lady nodded. “I’ll do that.” She stated, dispelling all of Mario’s worries. “But I warn you. It comes with a price: I want that assassin. Alive. If I don’t get him, you will have to deal with my wrath. I suppose you already have an idea about what it is like.” She sent Mario away with a wave of her hand, her last sentence giving the brunet a taste of what he had to expect from that said wrath.


	40. Talks of Reason

Mats had no idea what Lady Frieda had been talking about when she told him that he would find a pair of interested ears among the Bachiano lords. For most of the journey, he mused about the possible candidates, but his search came to no avail. It was no wonder. His responsibility as Lord Advisor applied only to the kingdom’s inner matters. His opinion was rarely considered when the king had to make a decision about foreign relations with the neighboring countries, and Mats had been quite alright with that. He had a good understanding of Dortehan’s problems and the wishes of its people, and he gladly let other lords make their stand when it came to foreign lands, Lord Höwedes, in the case of Bachiano.

But now, he was mad at himself for not educating himself. There were tons of books and papers in the royal palace’s library, he could have easily read through some of them and then he wouldn’t have to guess. He never took powerlessness well. He always wanted to act, to forge his own fortune, his own life according to his will. He did not accept the world as a playground where he was the toy of bigger forces. He knew that all the tools he would ever need were given to him and if he used them properly, he would never feel a lack of sources. Up until now, he had thought that he had done just that, but he had to realize that Lady Frieda knew more than him. The realization wasn’t as hard as the fact that he needed to accept it – and it was a bitter pill to swallow. The old dame had always prided herself in the women’s willingness to admit their own weaknesses. She always said that the men’s pride was their biggest enemies, and this morning, Mats was inclined to agree with her.

In the end, she was the one helping him out of his misery of cluelessness. When they stopped in the royal palace’s courtyard, Mats instinctively ran his eyes over the inner cloisters. It was a habit he couldn’t get rid of. When he had been a kid, returning from wherever he had been sent, although mostly it had been the Höwedes castle, his mother would await him there, smiling at him when the small Mats looked up at her. This morning, the gallery was mostly empty, apart from the guards and one foreign lord on his walk.

“If I were you, I would go and talk to him.” Lady Frieda suggested as she passed Mats. She didn’t even stop; she mentioned it casually as if she was just thanking the Lord Advisor for his company on the journey.

Mats’s eyes returned to the corridors. He took a deep breath and started to think, although he knew quite well that he didn’t have a choice. His legs were already moving and he knew that he had to talk to that older man. Lady Frieda might have disliked him, but there was no question about her concern for her son and her people. If there was any chance that Mats could calm their prestigious visitors down, this man was key to that and the raven-haired had to do everything he could to speak with him.

He took the steps two at a time as he ran up the stairwell, accepting the well-exercised greetings of the guards he passed. When he reached the second floor, he was slightly out of breath. He ran his hand through his dark locks of hair and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He couldn’t get rid of the dust of the road, but he wanted to make the best impression he could right now on the lord.

The man was heading for one of the castle’s bastions overlooking the vast meadows around the city. It was a breathtaking sight and Mats remembered himself standing by the same walls as a small boy, looking in the direction of the Höwedes castle, hoping that Benni was doing the same miles away from him, and at those moments, he felt connected with his friend even despite the distance that had felt so big to them back then.

“It is wonderful, isn’t it?” He stepped next to the Bachiano lord.

If Mats had surprised him, he didn’t let it show. He stood with a straight back and slowly blinked before he turned to Mats. His forehead was wrinkled, but the years spent in his castle’s halls, away from the sunshine spared his face from aging. His cold, almost gray eyes cut into Mats’s soul as they measured him, but they softened soon.

“Oh, yes. Your home surely has wonderful landscapes to offer, Lord Advisor.” The stranger nodded, giving Mats the usual and compulsory round of pleasantries.

“I don’t suppose I have had the pleasure to meet you, My Lord!” Mats countered, hoping that his ignorance would go unnoticed. It was a vain hope; a lord was used to being recognized, he even expected it. But Mats was lucky with this stranger, because he decided not to feel offended about it.

“Lord Hermann Hummels, and the pleasure is all mine, Lord Advisor! I have heard a lot about your wisdom in managing your country and I have wanted to meet you in person for a long time.” He said and his compliments overwhelmed Mats. The words were nothing new, he was used to such meaningless praise, but the problem was that Lord Hummels meant every single word and his eyes emphasized his politeness.

“I hope I can meet your expectations then, My Lord!” Mats nodded slightly. He had to come up with a way to bring up the prince’s behavior. He had to do it as tactfully as possible, not to look too nosy, but at the same time, he had to evaluate the damage done by Marco quickly. “I hear that the crown prince hasn’t exactly endeavored to do that.”

“Oh, please!” Lord Hummels laughed. “Personally, I found great amusement in it.” At least now Mats knew why Lady Frieda wanted him to talk to this man. “And the princess will surely forgive him, too. Prince Marco is young and wild, about to say farewell to his bachelor years. I wish I could tell you that his behavior was unmatched, but this isn’t the first engagement I’ve been to, and the amount the prince consumed was well below the average.”

“That is reassuring to hear. But are you sure that all of your lords think this way?” Mats asked carefully.

“You are measuring us, don’t you, Lord Advisor?” The older lord shook his head amused.

“Let’s say that there is a reason why our kings want this engagement to happen. Our relations aren’t completely the most pleasant ones, I think you agree with me.”

“By all means, by all means.” Lord Hummels put his hands up, and his expression became serious in a split second. “Your wariness is grounded. Not everyone is pleased with this idea, and you should look out with whom you talk about it. You are safe with me, but not all of my fellow lords would welcome a foreign prince on our throne. But, the king has no other choice. The princess is his only child and he must secure her position and her claim for the throne. The best way to do that is a wedding to a royal son.”

“So Marco wouldn’t be your king, then?” Mats’s eyebrow lifted.

“Oh, no. We can have a queen, but it is always safer to rule with a huge army behind your back; and your home has that.” Lord Hummels explained. Mats was taken aback by the openness he spoke with and his thoughts must have sit out on his face, as well, because the other man read him like an open book. “Oh, please, don’t pretend that this marriage wouldn’t have positive impact on the prince’s position… we both know why King Jürgen is so adamant. I know the man. There hasn’t been a cause in a long time that he has fought for with such vehemence. A rumor says that he might want to get Marco out of the way and install another man as the heir.” He looked at Mats very suggestively. The raven haired didn’t like it at all. If the Bachiano lords knew about this and spoke about it as a fact, there indeed was a spy among them. But, what troubled him more was the fact that it seemed that the Bachiano had all trumps. Then why was Lord Hummels laying his cards out so eagerly? “Talking to you, Lord Advisor, I must admit I see the king’s point. It would be a wise decision, if you ask me.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, My Lord!” Mats straightened out and puffed himself up. “Prince Marco is the heir by right and nothing will change it.”

He spun around and rushed away from their guest. He had heard enough. He couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t want to ruin Marco’s life, but more importantly, he didn’t want to ruin his own life. He would have accepted the position of the king if it was only about serving his people. He was ready to do it for his life and he would most probably do it nonetheless, being the advisor to whoever would become the next king. But, he didn’t like the other side of the coin. A king had to beget heir for the throne and for Mats, that meant saying goodbye to Benni.

“Lord Advisor, please wait!” Lord Hummels stopped him. Mats glanced back unwillingly. “I apologize if I have offended you. I only thought that–”

“I am not offended, Lord Hummels. But I would give you the same advice as the one you have given me: be careful who you talk to. We will see each other at lunch, I suppose?” Mats cut their conversation short, but the other one didn’t want to let go that easily.

“You would make a perfect ruler.” He croaked out and Mats stopped on his way again. This time, he didn’t turn around.

“Maybe. But there is no glory for bastards in the world of noblemen and kings.” He noted with an immense sadness in his voice. He hung his head low and got going again. He barely lifted his feet and his steps on the cold stones echoed in the courtyard.

 

* * *

 

“Aren’t you going too far with pleasing your honorable guests?” Lady Frieda asked as she entered the king’s quarters. King Jürgen was wearing his ceremonial clothes, something he hadn’t done since his coronation probably.

“What brought you here?” The blond man asked with sincere surprise.

“How could I miss the proposal of our wonderful prince? Especially if he is too drunk to form his vows?” Frieda hit back.

“Marco has changed. He had a bad day yesterday.” Jürgen avoided looking at the dame. He had hoped that they could put an end to this proposal without further ado, something that was surely impossible with Frieda around.

“And I see that he isn’t the only one who has gotten another chance from you.” Lady Frieda walked over to the small table the king was sitting at. “Mario.” She added when she saw Jürgen’s clueless look. “Is our kingdom’s future really in a servant’s hand?”

“If the noblemen can’t save it…” The king noted. He gave the impression of a broken man.

“Walter could have.” Lady Frieda said dryly.

“He isn’t with us anymore.” Jürgen stared in front of himself and that moment, Lady Frieda understood that he knew, too, that his best friend had been taken away from him forcefully.

“But I see that you have already found a new advisor.” She pointed at a small book lying on the table. “ _The Admonitions_. You’ve gone back a few centuries for some advice, haven’t you?” She picked up the paper containing Dortehan’s first king’s way of ruling.

“Just an old scribble with empty phrases.” Jürgen muttered. He wasn’t leading his country anymore. He had accepted his defeat. He knew that the solution wasn’t in his hands and for a king, that was the hardest thing to do. Frieda had always admired him for that, but at the same time, he had other shortcomings.

“Despite that, you clearly live by those words. _Look not at one’s position, but at one’s capabilities and thou shall be rewarded with the love of thine people_ , or something like that, right?” She tried to recall a passage. She had read the book countless times. It was the compulsory reading for all noble children and their teachers would expect them to learn all of it by heart.

“An old fool’s last hope.” Jürgen shrugged. “Dortehan’s last king reading the advice of its first king and wondering where it had gone wrong. My only son is hopelessly in love and will not take the crown. The only person who could lead this country is in love with your son and will not take the crown, either. Neither of them can be forced.”

“Haven’t you forgotten about someone?” Lady Frieda asked and the king looked at her with a look that could only be called horrified. “Pride is the ruler’s worst enemy. Would you really let your kingdom go into ruins instead of swallowing your pride and admitting that you haven’t been loyal to your wife, either?”

“How do you know about that?” The king sprung up and shouted.

“There is only one reason a man forgives his wife infidelity: if he had done it, too.” Lady Frieda held his look.

“He isn’t an option. He hasn’t been brought up as a king.” Jürgen turned around again.

“He has royal blood. Your blood. You would have easily made Mats your heir despite him having nothing to do with you, and you will overlook your own kin just so you can keep your image of the unerring man?” She made him face the reality and a heavy silence fell over the room for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. Lady Frieda looked at the small volume in her hand, remembering another sentence from it. “ _Rule by heart, mind and sword_. Marco has the heart, Mats has the mind, why don’t you give the sword the crown? He can give the kingdom heirs and he can protect it from the Bachiano.”

“If it needs to be protected…” The king noted.

“Jürgen, we both know that they want to erase us. They have wanted to do it for years. Now, they have the means. We need all capable men.”

“Not him.” Jürgen shook his head. “I have barely seen him. He has no idea who he is. He doesn’t have a past. They will never accept him.”

“Why would it be harder than getting Mats accepted? It really is only your pride standing in the way of the solution. If this Götze boy really can put an end to the conspiracy, we will be at war with Bachiano. Maybe not today, but it won’t take long. Who will lead the country then? We need a strong heir. Wars make heroes and heroes are never questioned. Just think about it, Jürgen. Make your decision, and don’t consider how it will affect you, but whether it is good for the realm. That’s why you are the king – to make such decisions.” She said and left him on his own to dwell on the advice he had gotten.


	41. Vows

“I’m glad you haven’t forgotten me, yet!” Marco snapped when Mario finally returned to his chamber. The brunet looked tired, but at the same time, he had that well-known expression that led him through every football game despite his fatigue. He knew that he could do much for the people around him and that they counted on him and it spurred him on.

“Don’t be mad at me, I only want you to be safe.” Mario smiled apologetically as he walked over to Marco and sat down next to him. The blond immediately pulled him in for an embrace.

“I wish I could know the same about you.” He sighed, his honesty melting Mario’s heart.

“Hey, I can watch out for myself.” Mario hit him playfully and then rested his head against the taller one’s chest. “How is the real prince doing?”

“He is at peace for now. But, somehow I feel that he will have to make the last step. I mean, I have learned my lesson with understanding what leadership really means, but maybe he has to make his own conclusions from this crazy exchange, too?” Marco mused out loud.

“It might be.” Mario nodded. “I feel the same about the real Mario. It’s kind of like we are acting together, not just me. He has given me a few hints during the night when I thought about this whole conspiracy thing and he knows this country really well. Maybe it’s not just me who has to step up, but also him.”

“I am so proud of you, you know that, right?” Marco pulled him even closer and started to stroke his hair. “And I can’t wait until we get back to our world and I can indulge you with my love for the rest of our lives. I will watch all of your games and–”

“Yes, you surely will.” Mario chuckled.

“What?” Marco frowned. “What do you mean? I meant it for real. I want to–”

“I know, Marco.” Mario looked up at him with a warm smile. “I meant it, too.” He took a deep breath. “I might go back to Dortmund.” He spilled it out. Marco’s reaction was worth it. The blond’s jaw literally dropped and he could only mouth a _what_ , but no sound left his throat. “I will probably give Bayern another year, but it isn’t where I want to be. I wanted to work with Pep, and I learned a lot from him. But, he isn’t the man I expected him to be, and Bayern isn’t the club I thought they would be. Pep will probably leave at the end of next season, and I will have only one year remaining on my contract then. I don’t suppose they will try to extend with me. And I won’t want to stay there, either. I’ve already spoken with Aki. He said that they would be interested in me.”

“Wow.” Marco managed to croak out. He was still at loss for thoughts and words. “That’s– I– I never expected that you would be back.”

“I have to get my life right, Marco. For years I’ve been nothing more than a PR clown. They took me from one photoshoot to another, I had to make this advertisement and that one, they told me what to post and when… They didn’t give me time to live my own life. And I was blind not to see it.”

“You were just young.” Marco consoled him.

“That’s no excuse.” Mario shook his head. “When you were young, you knew what was good for you and your career. I wouldn’t have made that step into the lower league so I could come back stronger. I would have stayed in the spotlight and hoped that it would work out somehow. I was brought up as a talent. Football was the first thing and everything else came only second. My father is partly to blame, but he only wanted the best for me. He just didn’t know what it was.”

“And what about Ann-Kathrin?” Marco asked the question that was burning his throat. He knew that it was a delicate topic and he didn’t want to force Mario into it, but he had to know.

“We have practically broken up long ago. We don’t live together, we just coexist. She always has a new campaign starting, and she asks me politely to stay together for the duration of it. She’s the biggest mistake I have ever made.”

“Don’t talk like that. I don’t like her either, but she doesn’t deserve to be talked about this way.” Marco frowned. “And don’t be too harsh on yourself. We all make mistakes. I’ve dated Caro, as well.”

“Yes, and I didn’t like it at all.” Mario laughed weakly.

“What do you mean?”

“I have had a crush on you even back then. I guess, it made me leave Dortmund, or at least it played a role. My feelings were growing for you and I believed that if I just ran away, it would fade. But, it only got stronger. Not that I mind.” He smirked.

“Why haven’t you told me? It would have made things so much easier.” Marco said.

“Oh, and you haven’t been feeling the same about me? I don’t think you realized you love me overnight.” Mario teased him. “Marco, we were both concentrating on our careers. But if I learned anything here, it is that no career is worthier than a life lived in happiness. I’ve already made enough money to last for a few years until I find my footing again if my career wrecks. I want to live by your side and that’s enough for me.” He admitted his feelings and to his utmost annoyance, Marco broke out in laughter. “Hey! I’m spilling my heart out and you laugh at me?”

“Sorry, it’s not that!” The blond caught his breath. “It’s that I only imagined Aki’s face when you would tell him that you want to sign a contract with us again and by the way, you are also dating me and we want to go public with it.”

“Yes, that will be worth it.” Mario agreed and joined Marco in his laughter. “But do you really want to go public?”

“Otherwise, there’s no point in it, right?” Marco asked somewhat unsure, but Mario dispelled his worries with a tender kiss.

“No, there’s no point in it.” He shook his head. “But we must get home first. That’s why I want you to be very careful. I think it will come to an end during lunch, but I don’t know how far the Bachiano will go. They might want to hurt you so be careful.”

“Olli will be there, and Marcel too. They won’t let me get hurt.” Marco reassured him. “I’m more worried about you.”

“You know what?” Mario spoke up. “Why don’t we promise each other that we will look after ourselves and we will get through this lunch safe and sound? And then, I think we will wake up on our yacht and we can live the life we envisioned for ourselves.”

“It sounds like a plan.” Marco smiled.

It was incredible how much they understood each other. Just like some sort of magic, they clicked together and more than ever before. The blond had no idea why it was so. Maybe they only needed that last hurdle vanish from their way to realize how much they belonged to one another. It was nothing like their friendship had been. This was deeper. Back then, Marco could read Mario’s thoughts and it was a wonderful sign of their strong connection. But now, he couldn’t sense any of Mario’s thoughts, because there were none that would feel like that. He didn’t have thoughts on his own, either. Whatever they thought of, both of them thought of it at the same time even after such a long time. They weren’t two men – they were one couple, in the purest sense.

“So do you promise me? Do you promise me that you will be fine after the lunch– and that you will be mine afterwards?” Mario looked at him seriously.

“I do.” Marco said without hesitation and he started to smile under his nose. Despite all of his and the prince’s endeavors, he had a proposal of a sort today. “And will you be healthy and mine, too?”

“Forever, cutie.” Mario placed a chaste kiss on the tip of Marco’s nose. He wanted to pull back right away, but the blond grabbed him and pulled him closer again, smashing their lips together.

It was a fiery kiss, all their emotions and insecurities in it. They had just promised each other that everything would be fine, but at the bottom of his heart, Marco still felt that the exact opposite might as well happen. This doubt crept on his mind and made him value the moment he had with Mario. He wanted to taste the brunet, the sweetest taste he had ever felt. Mario’s fleshy lips enveloped his thin ones. They kept their eyes shut, and their body heat radiated against their faces. Their noses bumped against each other occasionally, but it didn’t stop them. Their hands slowly climbed onto the cheeks of the other one, neither of them getting enough with that simple kiss. They wanted more, they needed more, but before Marco could form that thought properly, Mario pulled back.

“I should get going again.” He quickly brushed the back of his hand against his lips. Marco could have easily taken it as a sign of Mario not enjoying what they had just done, but he also saw the brunet’s own annoyance of the sudden end of it. It wasn’t Mario’s heart that had stopped him, it was his brain, that never resting machine that had to work hard to get them home. “Where’s Marcel by the way?”

“In the kitchen. He said that you had sent him there.” Marco answered. His lips were still tingling.

“Good.” Mario nodded. He was having a hard time being rational again, it was clear to see. “I will relieve him. You should get ready for the lunch. They want to see a prince.” He said without any emotion, gulping audibly after every sentence and never looking at Marco. He stood up and walked over to the door. His hand was already on the handle when Marco found his tongue again.

“Mario, I love you.” He said those simple words that didn’t even come close to what he felt for the brunet. “Please, don’t forget your promise.” He begged him.

Mario turned back and Marco could see tears welled up in his eyes, but the brunet steeled himself and answered with a faint nod before stepping out of the chamber, leaving Marco in anguish and a sea of doubts.

 

* * *

 

“Did you see anything peculiar?” Mario asked from Marcel when he stopped by him in the kitchen.

He had considered the Höwedes kitchen busy when they had been on a visit there, but it had been the most peaceful place in the world compared to what was going on in the royal kitchen. Maids and servants ran up and down, cooks made last adjustments to the heaps of food stacked on huge silver trays. The air was filled with the delicious smell of the tastiest meat. Mario couldn’t help it, his stomach groaned painfully even despite the imminent danger.

“Nothing.” Marcel shook his head. “Everything seems to be normal. If you can call _this_ normal.” He said, pointing at the commotion before them.

“That is good to hear.” Mario nodded. “I’ll take it from here. You should go and help the prince get ready for the lunch.”

“Can I ask you something?” Marcel spoke up before leaving. “What happened over the night? I mean, the prince looks a different person today. Not that I mind of course…”

“It is a long story.” Mario sighed. “Let’s say that he was reminded of what he needs to do and he realized a lot of things.”

“Well, whatever caused it, I am glad it happened.” He smiled, speaking confidently. The noise around them made it hard even for Mario to understand what he was saying. “You really care about him, Mario. I wish I could say that he deserves you… I know he isn’t the best person all the time, but he tries and you help him get better.”

“Thank you, Marcel.” Mario put his hand on the other servant’s shoulder. “But now go and aid him. And look out for him during the lunch!”

Only a few minutes after Marcel left, a bell was rang and it was the sign for the cooks to finish preparing the meals. Their place was taken over by the servants who had been standing in the background until now. Mario could recognize a few of them from the dinner at the Höwedes castle. These weren’t only servants from the capital. There were some from the Höwedes castle and Mario gathered that there were some from Bachiano as well. He quickly ran his eyes over them and joined them. The butler responsible for serving the food measured each servant and checked their clothing. He halted before Mario and his eyebrow ran up his forehead questioningly.

“The prince wishes me to carry his lunch.” Mario blurted out the first excuse for his being there that came to his mind. He knew that it wouldn’t lead to any further questions and indeed, the butler simply nodded and continued his review of servants.

“Alright, boys. It is time to bring the honored men’s lunch to them. I don’t want to see any blunders, do you understand me?” To emphasize his words, the bell was rung again. “Take your trays!”

Mario stepped to the table and started to search for the trays meant for the main table where Marco would sit. He didn’t have to search for long. They were placed closest to the oven keeping the food warm. He strode over there along with other servants. He was about to grab one of the trays when a loud clashing rang through the kitchen.

“You bloody fool!” The butler charged at one of the Bachiano servants trying his best to gather the food spilled over the floor. In no time, three maids stepped forward and cleared away the mess so no one would slip.

Mario didn’t wait for it. He turned back quickly, led by a horrible feeling and when he caught a glimpse of the scene in front of him, he saw that his worries were more than founded. A servant snuck through two other boys – still caught up in watching the butler telling off their fellow – and spilled something onto the food. Mario didn’t need to guess what it was and he wasn’t even surprised by the identity of this servant.

It had started, but dangerous as it might be, he couldn’t put an end to it right here. He needed to be in the great hall and use every support he could get. He lifted the tray in front of him and followed the other servants, mumbling a silent prayer that his power would be enough and that he could keep the promise he had made to Marco.


	42. A Lunch Cut Short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The awaited explanation of the conspiracy starts in this chapter, I hope you will like it. The remaining three chapters will be posted during the weekend and will answer all the questions you might have. :-) I want to thank you for your support of this story, and as always, if you feel like it, share your thoughts with me. :-)

Marco approached the great hall with his stomach tightened into a knot. He couldn’t eat any food even if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to go to this lunch at all. He would have preferred staying in his chamber with Mario by his side, holding the brunet tight so that nothing and no one could harm him. But, he had no choice. When Marcel had burst into his quarters, running straight to his cupboard and preparing elegant clothes for him, Marco knew that he had to play his role just a while longer. He could feel the real prince stirring in him, but for now, he left him alone.

Marco’s heart was ready to jump out of his chest as Marcel helped him to get properly dressed and then styled his hair as perfectly as it never had been in his real life. Then, just when they were finished, a servant arrived and knocked on the door, announcing that the prince was expected in the great hall for the ceremonial lunch. Marco took a deep breath, straightened his back and followed the servant. Marcel stayed behind and only caught up to them later, a hilt of a small knife sticking out from under his shirt giving away the reason why he had needed more time to leave the quarters.

Marco was glad that Marcel took looking after him so seriously. Obviously, the servant felt that something big was about to happen as well, maybe they had talked with Mario down in the kitchen. But the anticipation was tangible everywhere around the castle. Just as they reached the corridor leading to the great hall, Marco saw Robert giving out orders for a group of guards who were standing next to the open doors. The First Knight greeted his prince properly, but then turned back to his people immediately, his talk with them apparently more important than any niceties he was supposed to exchange with Marco.

Not that the blond minded it, quite on the contrary. He entered the great hall with wobbly legs. It was slowly but surely filling up with people. There were three tables in the hall, one of them stood across the room, right in front of the throne, while the other two had been placed a bit further, parallel to each other, forming a U of a sort. Marco didn’t have to guess where his place was.

The king was standing at the middle of the biggest table, talking to Thomas. Kloppo’s seat was the most impressive with crowns and incredibly detailed ornaments running up and down the well-worked wood. The princess was sitting two seats away from him, and Marco gathered that his was the place in between. Marcel confirmed his suspicion, because he walked straight there and pulled the chair away from the table, preparing everything for his prince. The blond inhaled slowly, and closed his eyes for a moment, calming himself down, or at least doing the best job he could. Even so, he could barely manage to bring his heartrate down by the least imaginable margin.

He accepted greetings from all over the great hall. It was obvious that the lords of the two countries were seated at their own tables, the hosts on the right and the guests on the left side. While Marco tried to show his friendliest expression to the former ones, he measured the latter group suspiciously. The main culprit of the conspiracy was among them, and right now, only Mario knew his identity – and the brunet was nowhere to be seen. Marco hoped that he would appear soon, because he was worried about his love and it was killing him. He wanted to know him safe, and while this hall couldn’t be called the safest place in the world right now, Mario would at least be in front of Marco and the blond could keep an eye on him at all times.

When he arrived at his allotted seat, he greeted the princess with as much politeness as he could muster. Cathy was stunning once again, and for a moment, Marco fell under her spell, forgetting about Mario, his own life and the mess they had found themselves in. He somehow felt that he had to fall on his knees and apologize to Cathy for the happenings of the day before, but Marcel had warned him against it. Marco had asked him about it, and the servant had explained to him that Marco should do it when it would be just the two of them, he had to show the image of a prince sure of himself and his position in front of others. It made sense. Marco didn’t want to start a scene, he was sure that it would happen soon enough.

He simply sat down and scanned over the room again. Their table was quite short, only around a dozen plates placed on it. Apart from the king, the princess and him, Thomas and Robert, Kehli, Lady Frieda and Benni were supposed to sit there, not to mention other high-standing Bachiano lords Marco didn’t know. Slowly all sat down, and their personal servants stood behind their seats. Olli appeared at the last moment and he stopped right behind Marco and Kloppo.

Everything seemed to be set, and Kehli stood up to check everything once more. When he was satisfied with what he was seeing, he clapped his hands and in that moment, a side-door leading to the great hall was open and a smaller army of servants flooded the hall, carrying trays with huge heaps of food on them. They moved like one being, as if they were instructed by silent orders, a clear understanding between them. They walked to the tables for the lower noblemen and waited there until the king and the more honored guests would be served first.

Marco noticed Mario in the group walking over their table. The brunet was pale as he tried to balance his tray on his hand and follow the rhythm the other servants moved to. He stopped right in front of Marco and winked at him as he put down the tray. That moment, the other two tables were supplied with food as well and the servants took three steps back, waiting to be useful next to the walls, out of sight.

Now it was up to Kloppo to start the lunch. No one was allowed to touch the food before he filled his plate and he started this undertaking very eagerly. Soon, he served himself to two chicken legs and a generous amount of garnish. At the same time, his cupbearer – and the others – stepped forward and filled every cup with red wine with the same movements. If they wanted to amaze everyone in the room, they were doing a very good job.

When the king leaned back in the seat, politely waiting for everyone else to follow his example, the whole hall started to buzz and a quiet music started to play in one of the far corners. Marco hadn’t even noticed the band standing there, but they might have entered the hall at a later time. He didn’t have an appetite, but he had to go with the custom. He only had one problem. He hated chicken legs. He would have opted for schnitzel, but he didn’t see anything like that around. In the end, he only put some potatoes on his plate and decided to wait for the other trays that started to go round the table, hoping that he would find a meal suitable for his taste, not that he would eat of it.

But, it turned out that no one was going to eat. Just as Klopp bent forward to cut into the still steaming meat, Mario stepped forward from the shadows and his cry froze the air in the hall.

“Don’t eat them, Your Grace! They are poisoned!” He yelled, every eye turning to him.

Kehli sprung up and was about to tell Mario off for disturbing the lunch, but Robert was quicker. He whistled, and the same second, the band of guards Marco had seen in front of the hall stormed inside, taking their positions, resting their hands on their swords. Simultaneously, a dozen other guards with crossbows appeared on the balconies. They didn’t aimed at anyone in particular, but the loaded weapons told everyone that they were ready to act in a split second.

“What is this supposed to mean, Your Grace?!” Thomas sprang up, reaching for his own sword. Marco had never seen him this angry before. He was practically fuming and Marco was utterly glad that he couldn’t kill with his eyes. “Is this what you call hospitality in your kingdom?”

“I apologize to you, Lord Müller,” Kloppo spoke with an unbelievable calmness, considering the situation, “but I would like to find out what is going on in my castle. Please sit down!” He ordered him gently, but the Bachiano didn’t obey.

“Your Grace, I will see to this servant being taken care of.” Kehli volunteered.

“There’s no reason to do that.” The king shook his head. “I will hear him out myself.” He said, pushing his plate away from himself. “Step forward boy, and tell me everything you know.”

 

* * *

 

Mario wouldn’t have thought that attention could be so frustrating. He was used to it from being a footballer, and he could deal with expectations in a way, too, but the pressure he had to endure constantly in his career was nothing compared to this here. All eyes were looking at him as he stumbled over to the king, keeping his eyes on the floor. He felt dizzy and he suddenly wished that he had kept his mouth shut, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t have done it. The king’s life was in danger, and in a way, Marco’s too. Although his dislike for chicken legs was notorious, Mario couldn’t be sure that it was the same in this world, too. But, something told him that it was so. The assassins couldn’t risk killing him by accident, and so far, they had only tried to get rid of Mats and the king… and Lord Höwedes, of course, their only successful attempt until now. And if it was up to Mario, it would be their last one, too.

He sent a grateful look towards Lady Frieda as he passed her, but she didn’t even look at him. She didn’t want to look like she had anything to do with this. She was protecting her position above all, but at the same time, Mario could see the interest in her eyes. It was selfish, though. She only wanted to get her hands on the killer of her husband, nothing more. Sure, she also cared about the fate of the kingdom, but it only came second to her own family’s fortunes.

The next person Mario thanked silently was Robert. The First Knight hadn’t been thrilled when Mario had told him that he needed his help. Sir Lewandowski wasn’t used to accepting orders from a simple servant and it was clear from his every movement and reaction during their conversation, but despite that, he had done what was necessary for the realm and listened to Mario. The guards securing the hall gave Mario a comfort of a sort, but it still wasn’t completely reassuring. After all, the assassins have managed to slip through this defense beforehand, too.

He finally cast a glance in Marco’s direction. The blond looked back at him horrified, but he was doing his very best to encourage his love and Mario acknowledged it with a weak smile that only lasted a moment, because behind the prince, Mario saw the Bachianos’ looks. The princess showed honest surprise, Thomas was still on his feet, ready to attack and defend her, but the more interesting ones were the two lords sitting at the end of the table.

Mario focused on the man sitting on Thomas’s right. He didn’t look shaken by the events at all, and it made Mario wary. If this young lord who was certainly the mastermind behind this conspiracy had expected this, Mario was totally screwed. His only hope was that he was one step ahead of his enemies. If it wasn’t so, he could easily find himself on the losing end.

His only resort was that he hadn’t misjudged Lord Hummels. The older lord was sitting warily, but his attention was mostly directed at his fellow lord sitting on his left. Robert had misread his attention back when he had visited Bachiano with the prince. Lord Hummels hadn’t stared at the prince because he was one of the conspirators. He had been looking out for him, just like he had been afraid that something might have happened to Mats the evening before when he had searched for the Lord Advisor during the dinner. He had a suspicion about the conspiracy and he wanted to stop it. He was afraid that it could ruin his home country and he wanted to stop it at all costs – Mario hoped that he could find an unlikely ally in him.

“Speak up, boy!” The king repeated, this time more annoyed. Mario was brought back to his senses and he shook his head to get concentrated. He knew that Kloppo could run out of patience very quickly, no matter what Lady Frieda had told him. “How do you know the food is poisoned?”

“I saw it.” Mario said, turning away from the king, eyeing the perpetrator. Said man tried to stay calm, but when one knew what to look for, one could see the signs of nervousness on him. He didn’t look like he would attack, though. He was a professional, if such a thing existed among assassins, and he accepted his defeat. He probably knew that there was no point in fighting a battle he wouldn’t win. All he could do was stand still and protect what he could, and right because of that, he didn’t give Mario what the brunet was looking for so badly: the slightest look in the direction of the suspicious Bachiano lord would have dispelled all of his doubts, but it didn’t happen.

“And who did it?” The king inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“He did.” Mario pointed at Gregor.

He could see surprise sitting out on Benni’s face. Lady Frieda was surely equally shocked, but she could conceal it perfectly. Gregor only stood there calmly and waited until two guards stepped next to him and grabbed him. He didn’t protest even when they led him to the table and made him stand in front of the king. Kloppo was sitting with a straight back and he ran his eyes over the accused one. He wasn’t convinced of what Mario had said so far. He had expected more, much more and he signaled to the brunet that he should go on and start his more detailed explanation.

Mario took a deep breath and he did so.


	43. The Uncovered Conspiracy

“He has been one of the assassins all the time.” Mario announced.

“But how can you know that?” Marco blurted out before realizing what he had done. Mario looked at him and saw that his friend felt himself being left behind.

“It all started with the attempt on the day of Lord Höwedes’s funeral.” Mario continued, keeping his calm. “There was an assassin in the castle, as well and we fought. He got away, and no matter how hard the First Knight’s men tried, they couldn’t catch him. Well, he is caught now.” Mario shrugged.

“And how do you know that all of a sudden?” Robert demanded. “When we asked you, you told us that you didn’t recognize or even see the assassin’s face. Were you lying to us?” He asked, looming over Mario, looking very threatening.

“Oh no, I didn’t recognize his face.” Mario shook his head.

“Then how do you know it is him?” Robert practically yelled.

“Sewage.” Mario noted slowly. He would have snickered at the absurdity of the situation – he solved a big chunk of the mystery thanks to the castle’s sewage system. He saw everyone’s bewildered look and he continued. “When the assassin lost his knife, I got to it faster than he did and managed to cut him. It wasn’t a deep cut, probably nothing more than a scratch, and it would have gone unnoticed easily. But, the assassin fled through the sewage system and the wound got infected. When we arrived at the Höwedes castle just a few hours later, Gregor was late in the kitchen and he moved very carefully. Everyone thought that the brother of his newest prey had beaten him up, because he was notorious for spending his time with girls in the castle, although I honestly doubt that he had ever done something similar. No, I suspect that he was living a double life, and that’s why he used to disappear.

“Anyways, I didn’t realize this at the time and I would have forgotten about Gregor at all, if something else hadn’t struck me odd: Lord Höwedes’s death. Everyone agreed that he was a strong man and his death came as a surprise to most of the people who knew him. Others blamed it on his old age, but to his closest acquaintances, it wasn’t a sufficing explanation. So I started to wonder and the more I thought about it, the more suspicious Gregor got. And then, when I met him today, I bumped into him, I hit his hip where I knew he would be very sensitive because of his wound – if he was the assassin, that is.” He took a dramatic pause. “Well, Gregor wasn’t very pleased by that, and I saw the pain in his eyes. His wound still hasn’t healed, has it, Gregor?” He turned to the other boy, but he only looked at Mario with the same cold expression. One would have thought that the guards were holding a statue and not a human being.

“There’s only one way to find out!” Robert burst out and he circled the table.

He walked over to Gregor, charging past Mario who had to jump out of the First Knight’s way. He stopped in front of the Höwedes servant and measured him for a second before he reached for his shirt and pulled it up.

And there it was for everyone to see. A wound that would have easily healed and wouldn’t cause Gregor any discomfort anymore, if it hadn’t been infected. It looked like Gregor had tried his best to treat it, and the first layers of fresh skin were visible, but it only proved that it was a fresh wound. Robert’s face was clouded by anger and he punched Gregor very close to the wound. The servant cried out in pain, bent double, but he immediately bit it back and looked at the knight as if he was going to kill him any second. He even tried to get out of the guards’ hold, but they brought him down to his knees and a sword pressed against his back finally calmed him down.

“This is treason!” Robert bellowed. “Tell us, who is your master? Who told you to kill the king?” He was furious and forgot about his surroundings.

Gregor watched him with a smug tranquility. “Fuck you.” He hissed, pushing Robert even deeper into his fury. The First Knight raised his hand to strike the captive, but before he could have done it, the king sprung up.

“That’s enough, Robert! There’s no point in doing this here. We will question the boy, but not here and not now.” Kloppo ordered, although it sounded more like a few calmly uttered statements.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Thomas spoke up. “We are glad that your and your family’s life is safe again, but we wouldn’t want to be involved in this matter that is entirely your country’s inner problem.”

“Oh, no, it isn’t.” Mario objected and the Bachiano lord shot him a look that could have killed him. The king treated him the same way. Mario realized that this was the point where his patience ran out. He could take many things from Mario, after all, he had given him full charge in his investigation, but when Mario was about to insult his guests, he was going to interrupt him. This was the moment when Mario needed Lady Frieda’s help the most.

“This is getting better and better.” The dame noted and reached for her wine, but she pulled her hand back immediately. Mario thought about their conversation earlier this morning. No, it wasn’t wise to drink when one was talking about poisons.

He had expected more from the lady, but even this small comment broke the king’s momentum and his objection to Mario’s accusations faltered a little bit. The brunet knew that he wouldn’t get any more chances to go on.

“Gregor could poison His Majesty’s food only because one of the Bachiano servants drew away everyone’s attention in the kitchen. He fell on the floor and crashed his tray.” Mario said.

“Or, he just simply fell and this assassin took his chance.” Thomas countered.

“Yes, of course it can be,” Mario admitted, “but I don’t think so.” He finished the sentence and everyone looked at him completely shocked. They probably weren’t used to a servant disagreeing with a lord. “Julian, could you tell us where Gregor is from?”

“I can’t remember correctly,” Julian stammered, obviously not pleased that he was suddenly involved in all this, “but I think he stayed in our castle after a Bachiano lord’s visit. He was very grateful to the late Lord Höwedes for handling a border dispute with level-headedness.”

“That’s all you have, boy?” Thomas snorted. “Your Majesty, I won’t take the accusations of two servants just because they feel like it!”

“You haven’t been accused, Lord Müller.” Kloppo corrected him. “If I’m not mistaken, your lordship doesn’t neighbor our lands.”

“Only Lord Hummels’s does.” Robert finished the thought for the king and turned towards the named lord. The older man was completely taken aback and didn’t know what to do. Mario knew that he was innocent, he was sure of that. He only needed to convince everyone else, which was an incredibly hard task.

“Do you have any evidence, Sir Lewandowski?” The addressed lord hit back. He spoke with the confidence of an innocent and Mario hoped that he wasn’t the only one who heard it. „If you have, it is your duty to present it, but if not, I’ll have to agree with Lord Müller: it’s nothing more than an accusation coming from a servant not worth listening to.”

“We have evidence, My Lord!” Mario interrupted before Robert could have made another comment. “But not against you.”

Literally everyone’s eyes in the room flashed and Mario understood that he said something that wasn’t acceptable, no matter the circumstances. God, it was so hard to deal with noblemen. They weren’t used to being questioned and obviously they didn’t want to take it from a man of a lower standing as them. Mario’s plan was falling apart.

_Let me take over_ , the real Mario from this world spoke to him carefully in his head. _I know how to deal with their sort_. It made sense and Mario nodded, hoping that others didn’t see it and didn’t think him insane, although it would have certainly explained how he had dared to accuse a nobleman so openly. He tried to switch off his mind, and as he did so, he felt the real Mario come forward and take over control.

“Sir Lewandowski, haven’t you found anything by the assassin in the castle?” The real Mario changed his tone and it was clear from it what Mario had done wrong: he wanted to lead the conversation. Instead, he should have opted for the role of someone leading from the background, helping the big names out – a role less in the spotlight but more suitable for him and bringing him much more success and results.

“We did.” Robert answered dazed, as if he had just remembered something.

He reached into another scabbard in his sword belt and pulled out the short sword the assassin had used. Mario had asked him to bring it here this morning, and now the knight inspected it with great care, probably for the first time. He was a man of action and fighting, he didn’t have the feel for investigation and long thinking sessions, instead he wanted to find his answers by confronting his suspects and getting every information out of them, even if in this case, this wasn’t the way to go by.

As he inspected the sword, scanning the engravings on its hilt, his eyes widened and stopped on the crest that was so familiar to Mario. He looked at the brunet, not believing his eyes. Mario smiled at him, confirming the First Knight’s suspicion. Robert regained his composure in a split second and he turned back to the table, full of determination. He held out the sword and threw it onto the tabletop, in front of Lord Müller.

“Isn’t it familiar, My Lord?” He smirked.

Mats could keep himself back up until this point. Seeing that the lunch was now definitely over, he stood up and walked over to the main table, where he couldn’t sit because he was a bastard and his presence would have insulted the princess, at least according to the common decencies. But now he stopped behind the prince’s seat and inspected the knife with great curiosity.

“It’s your crest, Lord Bretz.” Thomas pointed out the obvious and gave the knife over to the lord to whom it most probably belonged.

The young lord looked at it without any hint of interest. He shrugged and dropped the blade onto the table. “I have plenty of these. My family has a huge collection of arms and armors. What does it prove?”

“Sir Lewandowski, do you remember when you showed me the crossbow the so-called Black Knight used when he attacked the Lord Advisor?” Mario gave another hint. “I think I’ve seen the same crest engraved on it.”

“Yes.” Robert agreed and he became more enthusiastic when he felt Lord Bretz’s excuses crumble. “Yes, there definitely was the same crest on it!”

“What do you think, Sigmund?” Lord Hummels asked, a hint of demand in his voice. Mario noted satisfied that the old lord was now definitely on their side and it was very important. Maybe his hesitation would be contagious and Thomas would start to ask questions. Mario was well-aware of the weak point of his solution: he didn’t have any direct evidence against the mastermind. He didn’t know his motivation, but he was sure that it was Lord Bretz.

“This is all just weak attempts to mock me.” The young lord smiled in an ice-cold way. “This _evidence_ don’t prove me guilty of anything. They could point at anyone. You know very well that my father gave such knives to any visitors in our castle, and I’m sure that you have one, as well, Hermann. Maybe you gave it to your servant and then sent him to Lord Höwedes’s castle to first murder the lord and then the Lord Advisor, or the king. I don’t think you did, but from this evidence, it is perfectly plausible.”

And that was it. Mario’s heart missed a beat. He could feel how every noblemen in the room believing his explanation. They were bound to protect their own kin in a way, and didn’t hesitate to turn against a simple servant. Not even Marco could save him now. He was done, unless the Mario of this world had a trump.

“There was something else very special about that crossbow, Lord Bretz.” Mario’s lips formed the words. It seemed that maybe there was some hope after all and this battle wasn’t ending here. “I can’t help but notice how you switched your cutlery. You have your knife-scabbard on your right, which could only mean one thing: during a fight, when you would need your short knife, you expect your sword to be in your left hand. Now, I have no doubts that you are a great swordsman with both of your hands, but still, it seems that you prefer to use your left hand whenever you can. You are left-handed, aren’t you? Just like that crossbow was.” Mario stated and the atmosphere in the room changed. The lord only measured Mario with a deadpan expression, not answering his question. “I know how it is in the noble families: they try to cure you out of this weakness, don’t they? But it isn’t easy to break old habits. And in the end, you can use it to your own advantage. If you have two equally strong hands, that makes you a feared warrior. I remember how the Black Knight won the jousting tournament. He switched hands just before the impact and he managed to unhorse even such a well-known rider as Sir Kirch is.” Mario finished in a way that didn’t insult anyone at all.

What happened next was almost too quick for human eyes to notice. Bretz’s cold expression changed and a wry smile spread across his face. He sprung up, with his knife already in his right hand as he reached for Mats behind Lord Müller’s back.

Lord Hummels met his speed with surprising agility, considering his age and he hit Lord Bretz’s arm. He couldn’t stop the move, but he slowed the young lord down and it gave Mats time to evaluate his situation and take a step back.

The next moment, a few arrows cut through the hall and stopped in Lord Bretz’s back with a thump. The princess’s cry broke the dead silence and when the huge space drowned it, Lord Bretz fell to his knees and then his lifeless body sprawled out on the stone floor.


	44. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you once again for the amazing support and love you have been showing for this story. I cannot tell you how much it means to me, and I hope that the updates I'm posting are a way good enough to say thank you. In this chapter, some questions regarding the future of the characters (and also a question from the past) will be answered. The last chapter, which is more like an epilogue will be posted tomorrow. :-)

Marco didn’t know that silence had a sound, but the mute shock left after the princess’s loud cry was almost a sound on its own. It weighed down on everyone in the room and there was a long and slow coming back to senses after it. It was as if all the happenings that should have happened in that hour had been crammed into the few minutes when Mario revealed the conspiracy and now the world had to slow down to reestablish balance.

He took deep breaths and forced himself to stare at his plate. Somewhere behind him, a dead body lay on the ground and Marco could imagine a small pool of blood forming under it, something he didn’t want to see. He could hear his own heartbeat and he was sure that everyone felt somewhat similar. He had never experienced anything like this. He was so present and at the same time, he couldn’t form a coherent thought. He simply was and he hadn’t perceived his being with such force earlier.

“Are you alright, Lord Advisor?” Lord Hummels was the first to recover.

“Yes, yes, My Lord.” Mats stammered as if he was still checking if he was sound and safe. “Thanks to you. I owe you my life.”

His voice was full with gratitude and Marco would have liked to see his face, too, but that would have meant seeing the corpse of this Lord Bretz, whoever he was. Marco kept staring at his plate and swallowed back the bile trying to escape his stomach. He hadn’t eaten anything the whole day, but he was sure that the contents of his stomach would surface any moment if his concentration would falter. Somehow the relief that the end to this conspiracy had brought made him realize what kind of danger he had been in and the real threat he had been facing without actually knowing it was crushing him.

“Your Majesty, I want to reassure you that whatever Lord Bretz was up to, the royal family of Bachiano had nothing to do with it.” Lord Müller spoke up, hiding his sword as a sign of his peacefulness. “If King Pep had known about it, he would have stopped the lord and ridded him of his titles. And that’s what will be done to his kin and we will help you find anyone else who might want to hurt you, or your family, or your kingdom.”

“Thank you, My Lord, I never considered your king to be the root of this all.” Kloppo answered Thomas gently. “But, for the sake of the princess’s well-being above all, I think it would be for the best if you left Dortehan as soon as possible. Leave with the message of peace, but I can’t guarantee your safety right now. We will have to start a throughout investigation and while I can vouch for my soldiers’ loyalty and honor, I can’t vouch for all the people in our kingdom. You will always be my welcomed guests, but not everyone might think the same way after the news about the happenings of today get out beyond these walls, and already enough blood has been shed.”

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty!” Thomas understood the hidden message and helped the princess up, ready to leave along with most of the Bachiano guests by the sounds of chairs being pushed back. Marco still didn’t dare look up from his plate and he was satisfied with listening to the conversation going on above his head.

“Sir Lewandowski, make sure that this assassin is locked in our dungeons and double his guards. I want to bring him to justice.” The king gave out his next order.

“Yes, Your Grace!” Robert answered obediently and Gregor was led away.

Marco finally found the strength to look up although he felt extremely dizzy. The hall was half-empty, with all the servants gone, and so were the Bachiano guests. Marco instinctively looked at Mario. The brunet was standing in the midst of everything, but still in the shadows by his posture. When he looked up from behind his eyebrows, Marco realized that it wasn’t his friend and love in that body anymore. Somewhere during the unraveling, the Mario from this world had taken over and Marco wished from the bottom of his heart that his Mario was already in their world – at a safe place where Marco would hopefully follow him very soon.

“Marco, Mats, Sir Kirch, come with me!” Klopp stood up and everyone else still in the room followed his example. “Sebastian, make sure that the body of Lord Bretz is removed. Lord Höwedes, please don’t leave the palace before you speak to me. And Götze… Mario,” he corrected himself, “don’t go anywhere!”

Marco felt himself being pulled up as the king left his side. “Be strong, My Prince!” Olli squeezed him reassuringly, although Marco would have liked to cry out because of the strength the knight had put into this act of solace.

They followed the king without knowing where he was headed. Kirch supported Marco and the blond welcomed the strength the older man was lending him. Mats tagged along, stumbling behind them, apparently still overcome by the happenings and the life-and-death situation he had been facing just minutes ago. Marco admired him for having the strength to even stand upright after such a shock – he most probably would have fainted.

“This way.” Kloppo opened the door and Marco followed him blindly.

They entered a dark room, illuminated by only a small opening in the thick outer wall of the palace. It was probably one of the chambers where the defenders of the castle could shoot at the invading army. The narrow opening overlooked the city and the plain behind it. It was a breathtaking sight even from this dark hole.

“Sit down, boys.” The king said and Marco was the first one to listen to him. Mats sat down next to him and finally Sir Kirch slumped down the closest to the door, keeping one eye on it, as if he was expecting some sort of danger coming from there.

“I owe you a long explanation.” He took a deep breath. “I haven’t told this to anyone yet, but it is time that you know the entire truth. Mats, I wanted you to be my successor on the throne. It would have gone against all the order this kingdom had ever known. You would have been favored over a prince who was the heir by right, because I didn’t think Marco suitable for the role. I was mistaken, but even then…” He turned to the blond. “Marco, you aren’t my first-born son. _You_ are, Oliver.”

 

* * *

 

“Lord Hummels, will you please accompany me back to my quarters? I don’t feel the safest inside these walls anymore and you look like a skilled warrior.” Lady Frieda walked over to the old Lord who was still standing where he had saved his son’s life. He now looked at the lady next to him and nodded.

“But we will have to hurry, My Lady. I will have to be by the princess’s side when she leaves.” He said dryly. He reached out his left hand and Lady Frieda grabbed it. They started to walk slowly.

“You seemed to be well-prepared for a charge coming from that lord whatever-his-name-was.” The dame noted. “Well, in that case, you are either on alert all the time, or his involvement in such a scheme didn’t come as a surprise to you.”

“I’ve suspected him for some time.” The lord admitted. “But I didn’t have any evidence.”

“Something that our Götze boy gave you.” The lady chuckled. “Or I might already have to call him Sir Götze, knowing Jürgen’s sentimentality. Or maybe even lord? No, I don’t think that this old fool would go that far.” She mused out loud.

“Something tells me that this isn’t the reason why you wanted to talk with me, My Lady.” Lord Hummels urged her to get down to business.

“Oh, you, men… always being to the point, ruining a lady’s game.” She laughed. “I was surprised by your reaction to the attack on our Lord Advisor, My Lord. You were sent here to protect the princess’s life, just like Lord Müller did. But you decided to save the Lord Advisor’s life instead of standing between Bretz and Princess Cathy.”

“A dead man isn’t going to hurt the princess, and I trusted Lord Müller’s skills.” The old man said without looking at Lady Frieda.

“It might be…” She drawled. “But still, in our land at least, a sworn protector of a royal highness would inquire about that highness’s well-being instead of a stranger’s.”

“There are reasons why some truths are unspoken, My Lady.” Lord Hummels answered reservedly after a long pause, realizing that his secret wasn’t really a secret with Lady Frieda.

“But maybe there comes a time when they should come to surface, don’t you think?” Lady Frieda asked the rhetorical question she had been building up to all this time. “He should learn the truth. It is time. Jürgen loved him and he still does, but he is still a bastard. He would gladly reach for a father he has never had.”

“He’s safer if he doesn’t know the truth.” Lord Hummels said with determination. “The secrecy protects him.”

“But he is a grown-up man, don’t you think he would deserve the chance to choose?” Lady Frieda pushed the matter further.

“I must say that I’m surprised at you, My Lady.” Lord Hummels smiled under his breath. “You didn’t come off as such a caring dame from the news and descriptions I heard. And exactly because of that, something tells me that you are telling me only one part of the entire truth. Something tells me that you are hiding a more personal reason for your sudden interest in the Lord Advisor’s life. Maybe you would like to see him away from this part of the world? Or at least far away from your son?” He hinted, a smirk forming on his lips. He shot a glance in the lady’s direction that spoke a thousand words. He knew what kind of game she was playing, and he was an experienced player himself.

“We all have our weak points.” Lady Frieda gave in with a weak smile. “Look at us! Two caring parents, wanting the best for their sons.”

“Oh no, Lady Frieda.” Lord Hummels shook his head just as they arrived at the lady’s quarters. “I want the best for Mats and I want him to take it, to fight for it. You, on the other hand, want what it is the best for _you_ , not for your son. Benedikt and Mats are almost the same age, aren’t they? How did you say? He is a grown-up man, shouldn’t he make his own choice?” He finished the conversation and bent down to kiss the lady’s hand. “A wonderful wisdom from a wonderful lady. Maybe you should take it.”

 

* * *

 

“W-what?” Olli’s lips trembled as if the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped below zero, and Marco could understand his reaction perfectly. He probably would have reacted the same way.

“I wasn’t proud of what I did. It happened not long after my wedding. We camped far from the capital because of a barbarian horde ravaging the outskirts of the country. We were away from home for long months. I wasn’t the first, nor the last nobleman to break the holy oath taken in front of Our Creator. I wasn’t proud of it, and honestly, neither am I now. But, what happened, happened. I watched you closely, as much as I could and made sure that you would grow up and something would come out of you. You grew up as a simple boy, and look how far you have gotten. The day when I knighted you, I was very proud. You are my son, Oliver.” The king uttered again the plain truth.

“And if I want to accept Mats as my own son, I have to do the same to you. It is the only fair thing to do. When I do, the throne will befall to you.”

“No. No, that isn’t true.” Olli shook his head, fighting with reality. “That can’t be.”

“I know it is too much right now and hard to accept.” The king stepped over to him and put his hand on Olli’s shoulder reassuringly. “I can only apologize for the years when I didn’t care about you, at least not seemingly. I ask you to stay in the capital with the hope that I can somehow make up for it. I might be just an old fool for believing that it never is too late to start over, but at least, I’m not alone.” He looked at Marco with a warm smile. “I trusted you with my other son’s life and I would trust you with the kingdom.”

“But, that can’t be, Your Grace…” Olli objected, somewhat finding his composure. “I wasn’t brought up this way. Even if I am your son,” he adjusted his opinion, probably understanding that he couldn’t argue with the king’s words, “I have no idea how to lead a country.”

“You won’t be alone.” Mats spoke up and stepped over to Kirch.

“The Wise say that you have to learn a lot to govern, but in truth, all you need is in there.” Klopp pointed at the knight’s chest. “Just think about it. I’ll give you as much time as you need to decide, and I will be with you and answer all your questions. I will try to mend the relationship we have never had. You three are the future of this kingdom, it is clear to me now. If you find people who can help you out, there’s not a single hardship that could stop you. Oliver, you have the character of a real leader, the people will proudly stand behind you. Mats, you have the needed composure and cold headedness, and Marco, you have the spirit and love for the country. Together, you will be stronger than anyone else alone could. That’s how I see our home’s future. Lead and listen to others.”

“When it comes to listening to others…” Mats drawled. “We shouldn’t forget about someone.”

“Oh, yes, Mario.” Kloppo laughed out loud. “There’s no way to thank him enough for what he has done for the country. I will see to his reward, but– I just don’t think it will be close to what he deserves.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Mats snickered and sent Marco a suggestive glance. It took the blond a second until the penny dropped. There was no wonder that everyone considered Mats to be the bigger brain. With Olli on the horizon, Marco finally understood that the prince could be with Mario. The succession would be preserved, and Mats’s joyful expression told Marco that the dark haired had similar thoughts.

“Yes, Your Grace, could I–” Marco stood up. His legs were still weak and his voice broke countless times even while he uttered these few words. “Maybe I could–” He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “I would like to speak to Mario. I want to thank him for his service and see if there is something he asks for as his reward.”

Kloppo measured him for a long moment and then burst out in laughter. He didn’t even answer, he just opened the door and waved Marco out of the room. Mats followed the blond with a nod and rushed past the prince as he hurried to see his own love after all the excitement. Marco couldn’t help it but started to grin and started off towards the great hall, his steps speeding up on their own accord.


	45. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the boys' (and our) journey comes to an end. I want to thank you once again for the immense support you gave me through the countless comments, kudos or just hits and reading the updates. Writing a story can only be satisfying if there are people who read it gladly, and I hope that I managed to sweeten your days with this work. :-)

The great hall was empty, nothing even reminded Marco of the lunch from only half an hour earlier. He noticed relieved that the body of Lord Bretz was also gone, sand left there to soak up the blood. Marco diverted his eyes immediately and looked at Mario, who was leaning against one of the big columns holding up the balconies. When the brunet spotted him, he stood up straight. Marco somewhat expected to see his Mario, but the young man in front of him was still the Mario of this world, and for a moment, Marco wondered what was going on. If Mario was gone, why wasn’t he gone, too? Maybe he was wrong all this time and he had to do something else to get home?

He didn’t have the chance to muse about it for a long time. The real prince woke up in his mind and asked for control over his body. Marco hesitated, but in the end, he relaxed. The prince was a completely different person, touched by his father’s apology from the morning and learning the truth about Olli’s descent. He was now a kind soul and he was really simply asking for a chance to speak with his love. He could have taken control forcefully, but he respected Marco and considered him an equal now that everything seemed to have come to an end. Marco wasn’t a fool, he knew that there was still a long road ahead of the people in charge to really put an end to this conspiracy and everything it had brought with it, but hopefully he didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

He exhaled slowly and didn’t object as the prince pushed forward and slowly filled the mind they shared through a strange magic.

_Thank you, Marco_ , the prince said. _I’m sorry I didn’t trust you and your Mario. You are both exceptional human beings and my kingdom should be as thankful to you as it should be to my Mario. I hope you will find your happiness, too._

Marco acknowledged his words with a light heart and leaned back, watching the scene unfolding in front of his eyes. This time, he wasn’t afraid of what he would see. The prince seemed to be a reasonable man who knew very well what he needed to do. He closed down the distance between him and Mario and smiled at the brunet.

“Are you alright?” He asked with so much tenderness in his voice that Marco didn’t want to believe his ears. This prince indeed gave the impression of a completely different man. This couldn’t be the same person with whom he had had to fight all this time.

“Yes.” Mario nodded, with some wariness in his voice. Marco understood that there was a huge wall between their counterparts as well, something similar to the one they had had to overcome.

“Is the other Mario gone?” The prince inquired further.

“He is on his way out.”

“Look, Mario, I want to apologize to you.” The prince took a deep breath. “I haven’t been treating you properly. You loved me with all your heart and I– I haven’t given you the attention and appreciation you deserved. I somewhat considered you to be my right just because I was a prince. And at the same time, there was nothing prince like about me. I was just a spoiled brat, and I’m not proud of what I have done not only to you, but to others, too. I treated you like a toy that I could get out and then throw away whenever I pleased, and I did that without even noticing it. I can’t even hope that you will forgive me, because what I did is unforgivable…”

“Marco, please stop.” Mario interrupted him. “I am not mad at you. Of course, I saw how you treated me and believe me, it wasn’t something I liked. I considered many times what I was even doing by your side. But, the thing is that I never saw you as the real man you were. I saw in you what others couldn’t spot. I saw that clean spirit hidden somewhere deep in your soul, and I wanted to give you all I could to help that spirit emerge. I understood that you were a tortured and suffering soul and I couldn’t turn my head away. I can’t help it, that’s how I am. And I would do it again, because now, when I look at you, I see that my struggles, all my endeavors, paid off.”

“I just don’t deserve you.” The prince shook his head in disbelief.

“No, maybe you don’t.” Mario laughed. “But you have me nonetheless. So, what are you going to do with a simple stable boy?”

“Oh, I don’t see a stable boy anymore.” Marco smiled teasingly and wrapped his arm around Mario’s waist. “My father is willing to give you anything you want, and he will probably start with knighting you and then maybe following it with a manor in the most beautiful part of the country.”

“It doesn’t matter, he won’t give me what I really crave for…” Mario noted, sadly, avoiding the prince’s gaze.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about it.” The prince chuckled and the brunet looked at him with wide eyes. “There’s a new prospect to become the heir, and when he accepts, I won’t be the crown prince anymore. So would there be some space for me in your manor, too?”

“What are you talking about?” Mario asked completely bewildered and shaking his head so vehemently that Marco feared that he would bump it against something. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story and one I don’t know completely.” The prince calmed him down. “But our future can become real. So what do you say? What do you think of a life where I indulge you and treat you as my prince in every single waking hour? Will you say yes to that proposal?”

Mario looked the prince deep in the eyes and he grinned widely. Then, he reached forward and the prince bent down a little bit until their lips were close to each other. They both closed down that remaining inch at the same time and as their lips pushed against each other, meeting in a passionate kiss sealing their bright future, Marco felt himself spiraling out of the prince’s mind and body.

The world around him got dark and he felt somewhat dizzy as everything got further away from him. It felt as if something was dragging him upwards, always higher and higher and soon everything went silent. Then, he heard the silent sound of a boat rocking on the sea, a light breeze blowing in the air and seagulls welcoming the morning. It got louder and louder and he started to feel his own body as he slowly came back to his senses. He could taste the sea’s salty water, he felt the bed’s mattress support his body and the numbness slowly vanished from every part of his body. He was home.

He waited for a moment before he opened his eyes and mumbled a silent prayer that he was really on their yacht. The first thing he saw was the ceiling of his cabin and he almost cried out in relief. He started to beam and sat up immediately. He ran his fingers through his hair and then rubbed his face, just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. It was real: he was back in the world where he belonged to.

He stood up and stumbled out of his cabin on somewhat wobbly legs. He maybe should have remained lying for a minute or two, but he couldn’t care about it. He needed to see Mario as soon as possible and make sure that his friend and love was fine.

By the time he reached the brunet’s cabin, the shorter one was opening the door and he bumped into Marco. They shared a long look, both of them making sure that the other one was fine and then sighed in relief and instinctively reached for each other’s hands.

“Everything fine?” Mario asked, just to be sure.

“Yes.” Marco nodded, his voice cracking because of the immense joy he felt. He pushed the brunet back into his cabin and when Mario’s leg hit the bed, he gently pushed him down on the mattress. Mario looked at him baffled, and when Marco started to pull his T-shirt’s hem, he yelped in surprise.

“Marco!” He snapped. “We barely got back, I think we should–” He objected, but Marco was adamant. He pulled Mario’s T-shirt down and held the brunet still while he inspected his back carefully.

“Thank God!” Marco let out a breath he had been holding in for a long time. Mario furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of the blond’s sudden and strange behavior. Then, the penny finally dropped. Marco was making sure that his wounds were gone. “Aren’t you going to tell me who it was?” Marco asked tenderly, stroking Mario’s back.

“It doesn’t matter.” Mario shook his head. “You would have lost your temper and I didn’t want you to hurt anyone. It’s in the past, we should forget about it.”

“As you wish.” Marco nodded, giving in and he rested his chin on Mario’s shoulder.

They sat there in a silent understanding for a minute, gratitude and relief pooling in their stomachs as they slowly took in the experience of being back and being together. There was now nothing standing between them. They had their own world only to themselves and it was entirely up to them what they would make out of it. Marco realized that this was the time when the words they had said back in that alternative reality, the promises they had made, would really count. This was the time when their will would be put to a test.

He wanted to live with Mario, he had no doubts about it. And now, after they had overcome all the challenges they had faced in that fantasy world, he didn’t have any doubts about the possibility of that life, either. They could be each other’s, everything else was just excuses. It would be hard, he was well-aware of it. But, they could lend each other strength and they were just doing that as they sat there, in that cabin, somewhere in the middle of the sea.

“Marco?” Mario broke the silence. “That confession right before we left their world. Was it you or the prince already?”

Marco pulled back and frowned at his love. “It was the prince.”

“Oh.” Mario sighed, almost disappointed.

“But I wish I had said it.” Marco smiled at Mario, and the brunet’s face lit up.

“Really?”

“Really.” Marco nodded eagerly. “You mean the world to me, Mario, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. I love you and I always will.”

 

THE END


End file.
